HISTORY OF THE REIGN

OF

CHARLES THE FIFTH,

BY WILLIAM ROBERTSON, D.D.

WITH AN ACCOUNT OF

THE EMPEROR'S LIFE AFTER HIS ABDICATION,

BY

WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT,

<.:0BRESP0NDI3fG >IEMBER OF THE INSTITUTE OF FRANCE, OF THE ROY.Ui ACADEMY
OF HISTORY AT aLUJRID, ETC.

IN ONE VOLUME.

LONDON:
GEORGE ROUTLEDGE AND SONS,

BROADWAY, LUDGATE HILL.

NEW YORK: 129, GRAND STREET.

1869.

1067591

LOKDOK :
PEIKTEDBT 0. WHITINO, BEAOTORT HOUSE, STEAND,

t4^ c

•'S^^IRLISTJ^^IE JH1¥\

ENGRAVED By CHARLES COOl

ADVERTISEMENT.

The life of Charles tlie Fifth subsequently to his abdication is
disposed of by Dr. Eobertson in some six or seven pages. It did
not, in truth, come strictly within the author's plan, wbich proposed
only a history of the reign of the emperor. But unfortunately
these few pages contain many inaccuracies, and, among others, a
very erroneous view of the interest which Charles, in his retire-
ment, took in the concerns of the government. Yet it would be
unjust to impute these inaccuracies to want of care in the histo-
rian, since he had no access to such authentic sources of information
as would have enabled him to correct them. Such information was
to be derived from documents in the archives of Simancas, con-
sisting, among other things, of the original correspondence of the
emperor and his household, and showing conclusively that the
monarch, instead of remaining dead to the world in his retreat,
took, not merely an interest, but a decided part, in the manage-
ment of affairs. But in Robertson's day, Simancas was closed
against the native as well as the foreigner ; and it is not until within
a few years that the scholar has been permitted to enter its dusty
recesses, and draw thence materials to illustrate the national his-
tory. It is particularly rich in materials for the illustration of
Charles the Fifth's life after his abdication. Availing themselves
of the opportunities thus afforded, several eminent writers, both
in England and on the Continent, have bestowed much pains in
investigating a passage of history hitherto so little understood. The
results of their labours they have given to the world in a series
of elaborate works, which, however varying in details, all exhibit
Charles's character and conduct in his retirement in a very dif-
ferent point of view from that in which it has been usual to regard
them. It was the knowledge of this fact which led the Publishers
of the present edition of Robertson's " Charles the Fifth" to re-

IV ADVERTISEMENT.

quest me to prepare sucli an account of his monastic life as might
place before the reader the results of the recent researches m
Simancas, and that in a more concise form — as better suited to the
purpose for vs^hich it was designed — than had been adopted by pre-
ceding writers. I was the more willing to undertake the task, that
my previous studies had made me familiar with the subject, and
that I was possessed of a large body of authentic documents re-
lating to it, copied from the originals in Simancas. These docu-
ments, indeed, form the basis of a chapter on the monastic life of
Charles at the close of the first Book of the History of Philip the
Second, — written, I may add, in the summer of 1851, more than
a year previous to the publication of Mr. Stirling's admirable work,
which led the way, in the series of brilliant productions relating to
the cloister life of Charles.

In complying with the request of the Publishers, I have made
the authentic records which I had received from Simancas the
foundation of my narrative, — freely availing myself, at the same
time, of the labours of my predecessors, especially of those of Mr.
Stirling and M. Mignet, wherever they have thrown light on the
path from sources not within my reach.

In the performance of the task I have been insensibly led into a
much greater length than I had originally intended, or than, I
fear, will be altogether palatable to those who have become abeady
familiar with the narrative in the writings of those who have pre-
ceded me. To such readers I cannot, indeed, flatter myself that I
have given any information of importance beyond what they may
have acquired from these more extended and elaborate works. But
by far the larger part of readers in our community have probably
had no access to these works ; and I may express the hope that I
have executed the task in such a manner as to satisfy any curiosity
which, after perusing the narrative of the illustrious Scottish his-
torian, they may naturally feel respecting the closing scenes in the
life of the great Emperor.

WILLIAM H. PEESCOTT.

Boston,

November 10, 1856.

PREFACE.

No period in the liistory of one's own country can be considered as alto-
gether uninteresting. Such transactions as tend to illustrate the progress
of its constitution, laws, or manners, merit the utmost attention. Even
remote and minute events are objects of a curiosity, which, being natural to
the human mind, the gratification of it is attended with pleasure.

But, with respect to the liistory of foreign states, we must set other
bounds to our desire of information. The universal progress of science,
duriug the last two centuries, the art of printing, and other obvious causes,
have filled Europe with such a multiplicity of histories, and with such vast
collections of historical materials, that the term of human life is too short
for the study or even the perusal of them. It is necessary, then, not only
for those who are called to conduct the affairs of nations, but for such as
inquire and reason concerning them, to remain satisfied with a general know-
le^e of distant events, and to confine their study of history in detail chiefly
to that period in which the several states of Europe ha\in^ become inti-
mately connected, the operations of one power are so felt by al^ as to influence
their councils, and to regulate their measures.

* Some boundary, then, ought to be fixed in order to separate these pe-
riods. An era should be pointed out, prior to wliich each country, little con-
nected'wifh those around it, may trace its own history apart; ifter which,
the transactions of every considerable nation in Europe becort > interesting
and instructive to all. With this intention I undertook to wril J the history
of the Emperor Charles V. It was during his administration that the powers
of Europe weYe-formed into one great political system, in which eacli took a
station, wherein it has since reffiairied'with less variation than could have
been expected' after the shocks occasioned by so many internal revolutions,
and so many foreign wars. The great events which happened then have not
hitherto spent their force. The political principles and maxims then esta-
blished still continue to operate. The ideas concerning tlie balance of power
then introduced, or rendered general, stiU influence the councils of nations.

The age of Charles Y. may therefore be considered as the period at whieli"|
the political state of Europe be^an to assume a new form. I have endea- 1
voured to render my account of it an introduction to the liistory of Europe ♦
subsequent to his reign. While his numerous biographers describe his per- j
sonal qualities and actions ; while the liistorians of different countries relate|
occurrences, the consequences of which were local or transient, it hath beenf
my purpose to record only those great transactions in liis reign, the efi'ects|
of which were universal, or continue to be permanent. I

As my readers could derive little instruction from such a histonr of the
reign of Charles V. without, some information concerning the state of Europe
grevious to the sixteenth centurv, my desire of supplying this has produced
a preliminary voltcme, in 'which I have attempted to point out and to explain

V] PKEFACE.

the great causes and events to whose operation all the improvements in
the political state of Europe, from the subversion of the Roman empire to the
beginning of the sixteenth century, must be ascribed. I have exhibited a
view of the progress of society in Europe, not only with respect to interior
government, laws, and manners, but with respect to the command of the
national force requisite in foreign operations ; and I have described the poli-
tical constitution of the principal states in Europe at the time when Charles V.
began his reign.

In this part of my work I have been led into several critical disquisi-
tions, which belong more properly to the province of the lawyer or anti-
quary than to that of the historian. These I have placed at the end of the
volume, under the title of Proofs and Illustrations. Many of my readers
will, probably, give little attention to such researches. To some they may,
perhaps, apfjear the most curious and interesting part of the work. I have
carefuUy pointed out the sources from which I have derived information,
and have cited the writers on whose authority I rely wdth a minute exactness,
which might appear to border upon ostentation, if it were possible to be vain
of having read books, many of which nothing but the duty of examining with
accuracy whatever I laid before the public, could have induced me to open.
As my mquiries conducted me often into paths wliich were obscure or little
frequented, such constant references to the authors who have been my guides,
were not only necessary for authenticating the facts which are the founda-
tions of my reasonings, but may be useful in pointing out the way to such as
shall hereafter hold the same course, and in enabling them to carry on their
researches with greater facility and success.

Every intelligent reader will observe one omission in my work, the reason
of which it is necessary to explain. I have given no account of the con-
quests of Mexico and Peru, or of the establishment of the Spanish colonies
in the continent and islands of America, The history of these events I
originally intended to have related at considerable length. But, upon a
nearer and more attentive consideration of this part of my plan, I found that
the discovery of the New World ; the state of society among its ancient in-
habitants ; their character, manners, and arts ; the genius of the European
settlements in its various provinces, together with the influence of these
upon the systems of policy or commerce in Europe, were subjects so splendid
and important, that a superficial view of them could afford Kttle satisfaction ;
and, on the other hand, to treat of them as extensively as they merited must
produce an episode, disproportionate to the principal work. I have there-
fore reserved these for a separate history ; wliich, if the performance now
offered to the public shall receive its approbation, I purpose to undertake.

Though, by omitting such considerable but detached articles in the reign
of Charles V. I have circumscribed my narration within liiore narrow limits,
I am yet persuaded, from this view of the intention and nature of the work
which I thought it necessary to lay before my readers, that the plan must
still appear to them too extensive, and the uniertakmg too arduous. I have
often felt them to be so. But my conviction of the utility of such a history
prompted me to persevere. With what success I have executed it, the public
must now judge. I wait, not without solicitude, for its decision, to which
\ shall submit with a respectful silence.

CONTENTS.

SECTION I.

VIETT OF THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY IN EITROPE WITH RESPECT TO INTERIOR
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, AND MANNERS.

PAOB

The Effects of the Roman Power on the State of Europe — The Irruption of the Bar-
barous Nations — Their Settlements in the Countries they had conquered — Decay
of the Roman Empire — Desolation occasioned by the Barbarians — Origin of the
present Pohtical System of Europe — The Feudal System — Its Ji^ffects upon the
Arts, Literature, and Religion— the Crusades, and their Effects upon Societj^ —
Growth of Municipal Institutions — Emancipation of the Peasantry — Beginning
of a regular Administration of Justice — Trial by Combat — Appeals — Ecclesias-
tical Courts — Discovery of the Code of Justinian — Chivalry — Revival of Learning
— Influence of Commerce — Italians the first Merchants and Bankers — Rise of
Trade and Manufactures among the Cities of the Hanseatic League, — in the Ne-
therlands,— in England . .... .... 1

SECTION IL

VIEW OF THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY IN EUROPE WITH RESPECT TO THE
COMMAND OF THE NATIONAL FORCE REQUISITE IN FOREIGN OPERATIONS.

Improved State of Society at the Beginning of the Fifteenth Century — The Concen-
tration of Resources in European States — The Power of Monarchs ; their Revenues
and Armies — Affairs of different States at first entirely Distinct — Progress of Com-
bination— Loss of Continental Territory by the English — Effects upon the French
Monarchy — Growth of Standing Armies, and of the Royal Prerogative under
Louis Xi. — His Example imitated in England and in Spain — The Heiress of Bur-
gundy— Perfidious Conduct of Louis XI. towards her — Her Marriage with Maxi-
milian, Archduke of Austria — Invasion of Italy by Charles VIII. — The Balance
of Power — Use of Infantry in Armies — League of Cambray against Venice . 37

SECTION III.

VIEW OF THE POLITICAL CONSTITUTION OF THE PRINCIPAL STATES IN EUROPE
AT THE COMMENCEMENT OP THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

Italy at the Beginning of the Sixteenth Century — The Papal Power — Alexander VI.
and Julius II. — Defects in Ecclesiastical Governments — Venice: its Rise and
Progress; its Nhval Power and its Commerce — Florence — Naples and Sicily —
Contest for its Crown — Duchy of Milan — Ludovico Sforza — Spain, conquered by
the Vandals and by the Moors; gradually reconquered by the Christians — Mar-
riage of Ferdinand and Isabella — The Royal Prerogative — Constitution of Aragon
and of Castile — Internal Disorders — " The Holy Brotherhood" — France: its Con-
stitution and Government — The Power of its Early Kings — Government becomes

ym CONTENTS.

PAGE

purely Monarchical, though restrained by the Nobles and the Parliament — The
German Empire — Power of the Nobles and of the Clergy — Contests between the
Popes and the Emperors — Decline of Imperial Authority — Total Change of Go-
vernment— Maximilian — The real Power and Eevenues of the Emperors con-
trasted with their Pretensions — Complication of Difficulties — Origin of the
Turkish Empire ; its Character — The Janizaries — Solyman .... 54

BOOK I.

Birth of Charles V. — His Hereditary Dominions — Philip and Joanna, his Parents
— Birth of Ferdinand, his Brother — Death of Isabella — Philip's Attempts to
obtain the Government of Castile — The Kegent Ferdinand marries a Niece of the
French King to exclude Philip and his Daughter — The Castilian Nobility declare
for Philip — Philip and Joanna proclaimed — Death of Philip — Incapacity of Joanna
— Ferdinand made Regent — His Acquisition of Territory — His Death — Educa-
tion of Charles V. — Cardinals Ximenes and Adrian — Charles acknowledged King
— Ximenes strengthens the Royal Power ; is opposed by the Nobles — War in Na-
varre and in Africa — Peace with France — Charles visits Spain — His Ingratitude
towards Ximenes — Death of the Latter — Discontent of the Castilians — Cor-
ruption of the King's Flemish Favourites — Reception of Charles in Aragon —
Death of the Emperor Maximilian — Charles and Francis I. Competitors for the
Empire — Views of the other Reigning Potentates — Assembly of the Electors —
The Crown oifered to Frederic of Saxony — He declines in favour of Charles, who
is chosen — Discontent of the Spaniards — Insurrection in Valencia — The Cortes of
Castile summoned to meet in Galicia — Charles appoints Regents, and embarks
for the Low Countries .... 87

BOOK n.

Rivalry between Charles and Francis I. for the Empire — They negotiate with the
Pope, the Venetians, and Henry VIII. of England — Character of the latter —
Cardinal Wolsey — Charles visits England — Meeting between Henry VIIL and
Francis I. — Coronation of Charles — Solyman the Magnificent — The Diet convoked
at Worms — The Reformation — Sale of Indulgences by Leo X. — Tetzel — Luther
— Progress of his Opinions — Is summoned to Rome — His appearance before the
Legate — He appeals to a General Council— Luther questions the Papal Authority
— Reformation in Switzerland — Excommunication of Luther — Reformation in
Germany — Causes of the Progress of the Reformation — ^The Corruption in the
Roman Church — Power and Ill-Conduct of the Clergy — ^Venality of the Roman
Court — Effectvj of the Invention of Printing — Erasmus — The Diet at Worms —
Edict against Luther — He is seized and confined at Wartburg — His Doctrines
condemned by the University of Pans, and controverted by Henry VIII. of
England — Henry VIII. favours the Emperor Charles against Francis I. — Leo X.
makes a Treaty with Charles — Death of Chi^vres — Hostilities in Navarre and in
the Low Countries — Siege of M^zi^res — Congress at Calais — League against
France — Hostilities in Italy — Death of Leo X. — Defeat of the French —
Henry VIIL declares War against France- Charles visits England — Conquest of
Shodes by Solyman . 119

BOOK in.

Insurrections — Attempts of the Regent, Adrian, to suppress them — Confederacy in
€astile against him — Measures taken by the Emperor — Remonstrance of the
Junta — They take up Arms — Their Negotiations with the Nobles — The Junta,
under Padilla, defeated in Battle — Defence of Toledo by his Widow — The War
in Valencia and in Majorca — Generosity of the Emperor — Reception of Adrian at
Rome — His pacific Policy — A New League against France — Treachery of the
Duke of Bourbon — Francis attacks Milan — Death of Adrian, and Election of
Clement VII. — Disappointment of Wolsey— Progress of the War with France —

CONTENTS. a

PAOS

Pope Clement unable to bring about Peace — The French abandon the Milanese —
Death of Bayard — The Reformation in Germany — Lutlier translates the Bible —
The Diet at Nuremberg proposes a General Council — The Diet presents a List ot
Grievances to the Pope — Opinion at Rome concerning the Policy of Adrian —
Clement's Measures against Luther '01

BOOK IV.

Views of the Italian States respecting Charles and Francis — Charles invades Franco
without Success — Francis invades the Milanese — He besieges Pavia— Neutrality
of the Pope — Francis attacks Naples — Movements of the Imperial Generals —
Battle of Pavia — Francis taken Prisoner — Schemes of the Emperor — Prudence oi
Louise the Regent — Conduct of Henry VIII., and of the Italian Powers — The
Emperor's rigorous Terms to Francis — Francis carried to Spain — Henry makes a
Treaty with the Regent Louise — Intrigues of Morone in Milan — He is betrayed
by Pescara — Treatment of Francis — Bourbon made General and Duke of Milan —
Treaty of Madrid — Liberation of Francis — Charles marries Isabella of Portugal
— Affairs in Germany — Insurrections — Conduct of Luther — Prussia wrested
from the Teutonic Knights — Measures of Francis upon reaching his Kingdom —
A League against the Emperor — Preparations for War — The Colonnas Masters
of Rome — The Pope detached from the Holy League — Position of the Emperor
— Bourbon marches towards the Pope's Territories — Negotiations — Assault of
Rome— Bourbon slain— The City taken and plundered— The Pope a Prisoner —
Hypocrisy of the Ennperor — Solyman invades Hungary — Ferdinand, Archduke
of Austria, becomes King of Hungary — Progress of the Reformation . . • 189

BOOK V.

General Indignation and Confederacy against the Emperor — The Florentines — The
French Army in Italy — The Emperor sets the Pope at Liberty, and makes Pacific
Overtures — A Royal Challenge — Retreat of the Imperial Army from Rome — The
French besiege Naples — Revolt of Andrew Doria — Freedom of Genoa — Opera-
tions in the Milanese — Treaty between the Pope and the Emperor, and between
Charles and Francis — Henry VIII. seeks a Divorce from his Queen, Catharine of
Aragon — Charles visits Italy, and re-establishes the Power of the Medici — Returns
to Germany — The Diet of Spires — The Protest — Tlie Diet of Augsburg — Decree
against the Protestants — Charles makes his Brother, Ferdinand, King of the
Romans — Negotiations of the Protestants — The Campaign in Hungary — Con-
ference between the Emperor and the Pope — Movements of the French King
— Henry divorced from Queen Catharine by the Archbishop, and excommuni-
cated by the Pope — Papal Authority abolished in England — Death of Clement VII.
— Pope' Paul III. — Insurrection of the Anabaptists in Germany — They become
Masters of Munster — John of Leyden crowned King — Confederacy against him
— Munster besieged and taken — The League of Smalkalde — Expedition of the
Emperor to Africa — The Barbary States — The Barbarossas — Conquest of Tunis
— The Emperor besieges Goletta, defeats Barbarossa, and restores the King of
Tunis .... 22o

BOOK VI.

A new War between the Emperor and Francis — Francis negotiates unsuccessfully
with the German Protestants — ^Takes Possession of Savoy — Geneva recovers
its Liberty — Francis makes a new Claim to the Duchy of Slilan — Charles pre-
pares for War — He challenges Francis — He recovers a Part of Savoy — He enters
Provence — He is defeated by the cautious Pohcy of Montmorency — Operations m
Picardy — Death of the Dauphin imputed to Poison — Decree of the Parliament
of Paris — Hostilities in the Low Countries, and in Piedmont — AUiance between
Francis and Solyman — Truce concluded at Nice — Interview between Charles and
Francis — Assassination of Alexander de' Medici — His Successor, Cosmo, sup-

6

X CONTENTS.

PAGK

f)rted by the Emperor — Renewed Coolness between Charles and Frances — The
mperor courts Henry VIII. — Negotiations for a General Council — The Refor-
mation in Saxony — State of the Emperor's Finances — Complaints of his Spanish
Subjects — The Cortes subverted — Insurrection at Ghent — Francis refuses Aid to
the Rebels — Charles passes through France — His Vengeance upon Ghent — He
refuses to keep his Promise to Francis concerning Milan — Loyola, Founder of
the Jesuits — Constitution and Policy of this Order — Its Power, Wealth, and In-
fluence—Conference between Roman and Protestant Divines at Ratisbon — Death
of King John of Hungary — Solyman seizes the Kingdom — The Emperor's Expe-
dition against Algiers 264

BOOK VII.

Eenewal of Hostilities by Francis — Operations of his Forces — The Emperor's Nego-
tiations with Henry VIII. — Henry's Rupture with France and Scotland — Francis's
Negotiations with Solyman — The Campaign in the Low Countries — Solyman
invades Hungary — Barbarossa's Descent upon Italy — Maurice of Saxony — The
Pope calls a Council at Trent, but is obliged to prorogue it — Diet at Spires —
Concessions to the Protestants by the Emperor — His Negotiations with Denmark
and England — Battle of Cerisoles- -Siege of St. Disier — Peace concluded at
Crespy — War between France and England continued — Diet at Worms- The
Protestants suspect the Emperor — 'Death of the Duke of Orleans — The Pope
grants the Duchies of Parma and Placentia to his Son — The Council of Trent
— The Protestants and the Emperor 31C

BOOK VIII.

Death of Luther — Hostility of the Emperor towards the Protestants — His Alliances
— Diet at Ratisbon — The Emperor's Treaty with the Pope — The Protestants
prepare for Defence, and seek for Aid — They lose by Inaction — Their first
Operations — The Emperor declines Battle — Maurice or Saxony, his Treachery
— Separation of the confederate Army — Rigorous Conduct of the Emperor ta
those who yielded — Contest between Maurice of Saxony and the Elector — The
Pope recals his Troops — Conspiracy in Genoa — Fiesco, Count of Lavagna . 33^

BOOK IX.

Francis, jealous of the Emperor, endeavours to form Alliances against him — Death
of Francis — The Emperor marches against the Elector of Saxony — Battle of
Mulhausen — The Elector taken Prisoner — Charles invests Wittemberg — His
ungenerous Treatment of the Elector — Maurice put in Possession of the
Electoral Dominions — The Emperor treacherously detains the Landgrave as a
Prisoner — His Rigour towards nis German Subjects — Ferdinand's Tyranny in
Bohemia — Diet at Augsburg — The Council translated from Trent to Bologna —
Assassination of the Pope's Son — The Pope's Dread of the Emperor — Contest as
to the Place of Session of the Council — Compliance with " The Interim" enforced
by the Emperor — The Pope dismisses the Council assembled at Bologna — The
Emperor receives his Son Philip in the Low Countries .... 366

BOOK X.

The Pope's Schemes against the Emperor — Election of Pope Julius III. — Diet at
Augsburg — Schemes of Maurice of Saxony against the Emperor — War upon
Magdeburg — Council summoned at Trent — Attempt to obtain the Liberation of
the Landgrave — Plan of Charles for procuring the Imperial Crown for his Son
Philip — The Pope and Emperor attempt to recover Parma and Placentia —
Octavio makes an Alliance with Henry If. of France — Hostilities between
Charles and Henry — Hecry protests against the Council — Violence of the

CONTENTS. XI

PACK

Emperor agninst the Protestants — Siege of Magdeburg by Maurice — Martir.uMi
favours the Pretensions of Ferdinand to Hungary — He is assassinated by order of
Feixlinand — Maurice makes a Treaty with Henry II. — He demands once more the
Liberty of the Landgrave — He amuses the Emperor, and meanwhile makes Pre-
paration for War — He takes the Field — The Emperor endeavours to gaiu Time
by Negotiation — Maurice takes the Castle of Ehrenberg — The Emperor flies from
Inspruck — He liberates the Elector of Saxony — The Council of Trent breaks up—
The French attack Strasburg — The Operations of Albert of Brandenburg — Ne-
gotiations for peace at Passau at last successful 393

BOOK XI.

Maurice marches against the Turks — The Landgrave and the Elector recover their
Liberty — The Emperor makes War upon France — The Siege of Metz — Losses
of the Emperor in Italy — Descent of the Turks upon the Kingdom of Naples
— Confederacy under the lead of Maurice against Albert of Brandenburg —
Llaurice is slain in Battle, but Albert is defeated, and afterwards driven out of
Germany — Success of the Emperor in the Netherlands — His Losses in Hungary
and Italy — The Family Troubles of Solyman — The Ambition of his Mistress
Roxalana, and the Fate of his Son Mustapha — Marriage of Philip with Mary
of England — Efforts of Mary to overthrow Protestantism — Henry conducts a
vigorous Campaign against the Emperor — Cosmo de' Aledici's Schemes — The
French under Strozzi defeated — Siege of Siena — Retreat of the Duke of Alva
from Piedmont — Conspiracy to betray Metz discovered — Diet at Augsburg —
Death of Pope Julius — Charles endeavours anew to acquire the Imperial Crown
for his Son Philip — The Peace of Religion established— Pope Marcellus II. —
Pope Paul IV., and the ambitious Schemes of his Nephews — The Emperor abdi-
cates in favour of his Son Philip — Peace between France and Spain — The Pope
attempts to rekindle War— The Duke of Alva takes the Field against him — ^A
Truce between the Pope and Philip 428

BOOK XII.

New and fruitless Attempt of the Emperor to procure the Succession for his Son
Phihf)— He sets out for Spain — His Retreat at St. Justus — The Pope renews
Hostilities against Philip — Duke of Guise's Operations — Philip gains the Aid of
England — The War in the Netherlands — Siege of St. Quentin — Measures of Henry
for the Defence of France — Peace between the Pope and Philip — Placentia
restored to the Duke of Parma — Cosmo de' Medici recovers Siena — The Duke
of Guise invests and takes Calais — Ferdinand chosen Successor to the Emperor,
but is not acknowledged by the Pope — Marriage of the Dauphin and the Queen
of Scots — Defeat of the French at Gravelines — Proposals for Peace — Death of
Charles V. — Death of Mary of England— Both Henry and Philip court her Suc-
cessor, Elizabeth — Her Artifice towards Philip— Articles of Peace agreed upon—'
Death of Henry — State of Europe during the Rtign of Charles V. — Progress ot
the House of Austria — Growth of France and of England — The Reformation —
State of Venice and other Italian Nations; of Russia, and the Northern Powers . 476

The Life of Charles the Fifth after his Abdication .... 617

BOOK I.

The Convent of Yuste — Charles's Departure from tlie Netherlands — His Voyage
to Spain — His Progress tiirough the Country — Reception at Valladolid — Journey
to Jaran lilhi — His Re-iidonce there — Discontent of his Hou-jehold — His Visitors
— Pernicious Indulgeuce of his Appetite — His Removal to Yuste . ... 620

XU CONTENTS.

BOOK II.

FAOB

Charles's Marision at Yuste — Furniture and Works of Art — Van Male — Charles's
Household and Expenditure — His Way of Life — His Confessor — His Mechanical
Pursuits — His Observance of Religious Rites — His Contentment at Yuste . . 538

BOOK III.

Erroneous Opinions respecting Charles — His Interest in Public Affairs — Luis de Avila
— Pettj Annoyances — Visit of Francisco Borja — Charles's Memoirs of Himself
— Visit of his Sisters to Yuste — Death of Queen Eleanor — Charles's Resignation
of the Imperial Title — His Zeal for the Faith 553

BOOK IV.

Charles's 111 Health — He rehearses his Obsequies — Is attacked by his last Illness
— Codicil to his Will— Progress of the Disease — Extreme Unction — I^st Hours
and Death — Funeral Honours — Philip the Second's Visit to Yuste — Bodies of
Charles and his Family removed to the Escorial — Decay of the Convent at Yuste 570

Proofs and Illustrations 587

Index 661

A VIEW

OF THK

PROGRESS OF SOCIETY IN EUROPE,

SUBVEESION OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE TO THE BEGINNING OF THE
SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

SECTION L

VIEW OF THE PROGRESS OF SOCIETY IN EUROPE "WITH RESPECT TO INTEEIOB
GOVERNMENT, LAWS, AND MANNERS.

The Effects of the Roman Power on the State of Europe — The Irruption of the Bar-
barous Nations — Their Settlements in the Countries they had conquered — Decay of
the Roman Empire — Desolation occasioned by the Barbarians — Origin of the present
Political System of Europe — The Feudal System — Its Effects upon the Arts, Literature,
and Religion — the Crusades, and their Effects upon Society — Growth of Municipal In-
stitutions— Emancipation of the Peasantry — Beginning of a regular Administration of
Justice — Trial by Combat — Appeals — l']cclesiastical Courts — Discovery of the Code of
Justinian — Chivalry — Revival of Learning — Influence of Commerce — Italians the first
Merchants and Bankers — Rise of Trade and Manufactures among the Cities of the
Hanseatic League, — in the Netherlands, — in England.

Two great revolutions have happened in the political state, and in the manners
of the European nations. The first was occasioned by the progress of the
Roman power ; the second by the subversion of it. When the spirit of con-
quest led the armies of Rome beyond the Alps, they found all the countries
which they invaded inhabited by people whom they denominated barbarians,
but who were nevertheless brave and independent. These defended their
ancient possessions with obstinate valour. It was by the superiority of their
discipline, rather than that of their courage, that the Romans gained any ad-
vantage over them. A single battle did not, as among the effeminate mlia-
bitants of Asia, decide the fate of a state. The vanquished people resumed
their arms with fresh spirit, and their undisciplined valour, animated by the
love of liberty, supplied the want of conduct as well as of union. During
those long and fierce struggles for dominion or independence, the countries
of Europe were successively laid waste, a great part of their inhabitants
perished in the field, many were carried into slavery, and a feeble remnant,
mcapable of farther resistance, submitted to the Roman power.

The Romans having thus desolated Europe, set themselves to civilize it.
The form of government which thoy established in "^.he conquered provinces,
though severe, was regular, and preserved public tianquillity. As a con-

B

2 IRRUPTION OF BARBAROUS NATIONS. [SECT. 1,

solation for tlie loss of liberty, tliey communicated their arts, sciences, lan-
guage, and manners to their new subjects. Europe began to breathe, and to
recover strength after the calamities which it had undergone; agriculture
was encouraged ; population increased ; the ruined cities were rebuilt ; new
towns were founded ; an appearance of prosperity succeeded, and repaired, in
some degree, the havoc of war.

This state, however, was far from being liappy or favourable to the im-
provement of the human mind. The vanquished nations were disarmed by
their conquerors, and overawed by soldiers kept in pay to restrain them.
They were given up as a prey to rapacious governors, who plundered them
with impunity ; and were drained of their wealth by exorbitant taxes, levied
with so little attention to the situation of the provinces, that the impositions
were often increased in proportion to their inability to support them. They
were deprived of their most enterj^rising citizens, who resorted to a distant
capital in quest of preferment, or of riches ; and were accustomed in all their
actions to look up to a superior, and tamely to receive his commands. Under
so many depressing circumstances, it was hardly possible that they could retain
vigour or generosity of mind. The martial and mdependent spirit, which had
distiaguished their ancestors, became, in a great measure, extinct among all
the people subjected to the Roman yoke ; they lost not only the habit, but
even the capacity of deciding for themselves, or of acting from the impulse of
their own minds- and the dominion of the Romans, like that of all great
empires, degraded and debased the human sj)ecies. (1)

A society in such a state could not subsist long. There were defects in
the Roman government, even in its most perfect fonn, which threatened its
dissolution. Time ripened these OTigiiial seeds of corruption, and gave birth
to many new disorders. A constitution unsound, and worn out, must have-
fallen into pieces of itself, without any external shock. The violent irruption
of the Goths, Vandals, Huns, and other barbarians, hastened this event, and
precipitated the downfal of the empire. New nations seemed to arise, and to
rush from unknown regions, in order to take vengeance on the Romans for
the calamities which they had inflicted on mankind. These fierce tribes either
inhabited the various provinces in Germany which had never been subdued
by the Romans, or were scattered over those vasf Countries in the north of
Europe, and north-west of Asia, which are now otcupied by the Danes, the
Swedes, the Poles, the subjects of the Russian empii-e, and the Tartars.
Their condition and transactions, previous to their invasion of the empire,
are but little known. Almost aU our information with respect to these is
derived from the Romans; and as they did not jDcnetrate far into countries
which were at that time uncultivated and umnviting, the accounts of their
original state given by the Roman historians are extremely imperfect. The
rude inhabitants themselves, destitute of science as well as of records, and
witho' . leisure or curiosity to inquire into remote events, retained, pernaps,^
some indistinct memory of recent occurrences, but beyond these, all was
buried in oblivion, or involved in darkness and in fable, (2)

The prodigious swarms which poured in upon the empire from the be-

f inning of the fourth century to the final extinction of the Roman power,
ave given rise to an opinion that the countries whence they issued were
crowded with inhabitants ; and various theories have been formed to account
for such an extraordinary degree of population as hath procured these
countries the appellation of "the storehouse of nations," But if we consider
that the countries possessed by the people who invaded the empire were of
vast extent ; that a great part of these was covered with woods and marshes ;

(1) See Proofs and Illustrations at the end of this volume.

SECT. I.] DECAY OF THE ROilAN ElirilO:. 3

that some of the most considerable of the barlwirous nations subsisted entirely
by hunting or pasturage, in both which states of society large tracts of land
are requii-ed for maintaining a few inhabitants ; and that all of them were
strangers to the arts luid indfustry, without which population cannot increase
to anv great degree, we must conclude, that these countries could not be so
populous in ancient times as they are in the present, when they still continue
to be less peopled than any other part of Europe or of Asia.

But the same circumstances that prevented the barbarous nations from be-
coming populous, contributed to inspire, or to strengthen, the martial spirit
by which they were distinguished. Liured by the rigour of their climate, oi
ike poverty of their soil, to hardships which rendered their bodies firm and
their minds vigorous ; accustomed to a course of life which was a continual
preparation for action ; and disdaining everv occupation but that of war or of
hunting, they undertook and prosecuted their military enterprises with an
ardoui* and mipetuosity of which men softened by the refinements of more
polished times can scarcely form any idea. (3)

Their first im-oads into tne empire proceeded rather fi'om the love of
plunder than from the desu-e of new settlements. Roused to arms by some
enterprising or popular leader, they sallied out of their forests, broke in upon
the fi-outier provinces with irresistible violence, put all who opposed them to
the sword, earned off the most valuable effects of the iniiabitants, dragged
along multitudes of captives in chains, wasted all before them with fire or
sword, and returned in triumpli to their wilds and fastnesses. Their success,
together with the accounts which they gave of the unknown conveniences and
luxuiies that abounded in countries better cultivated, or blessed with a milder
climate than their oAvn, excited new adventurers, and exposed the frontier to
new devastations.

'VYhen nothing was left to plunder in the adjacent provinces, ravaged by
frequent excursions, they inarched farther from liome, and finding it difficult
or dangerous to return, thev began to settle in the countries which they had
subdued. The sudden and short excursions in quest of booty, which had
alarmed and disquieted the empire, ceased ; a more di-eadful calamity im-
pended. Great bodies of armed men, with their wives and cliildren, and slaves
and flocks, issued forth, like regular colonies, in quest of new settlements.
People who had no cities, and seldom any fixed habitation, were so little at-
tached to their native soil, that they migrated without reluctance from one
Slace to the other. New adventurers followed them. The lands which they
eserted were occupied by more remote tribes of barbarians. These, in theii-
turn, pushed forward into'more fertile countries, and, like a torrent continually
increasing, rolled on, and swept everj'tliing before them. In less than two
centuries from their first irruption, liarbarians of various names and lineage
plundered and took possession of Thrace, Paimonia, Gaul, Spain, Africa, md
at last of Italy and Rome itself. The vast fabric of the Roman power, which
it had been the work of ages to perfect, was in that short period overturned
from the foundation.

Many concurring causes prepared the way for this great revolution, and
ensured success to the nations which invaded the empire. The Roman com-
monwealth had conq^uered the world by the wisdom of its civil maxims, and
the rigour of its military discipline, fiut, under the emperors^ the former
were forgotten or despised, and the latter was greatly relaxed. Ihe ai-mies of
the empire in the fourth and fifth centuries bore scarcely any resemblance to
"tiiose mvincible legions which had been victorious wherever they marched.
Instead of freemen, who voluntarily took arms from the love of glory, or of
their country, provincials and barbarians were bribed or forced into service.
Tliese were too feeble or too proud to submit to the fatigue of military duty.

b3

4 DECAY OF THE ROMAN EMPIHE.. J SECT. I.

They e\?en coniplained of the weii?ht of their defensive armour as intolerable,
and laid it aside. Infantrj', from which the armies of ancient Borne derived
their vigour and stability, fell into contempt ; the eifemiuate and undisciplined
soldiers of later times could hardly be brought to venture into the field but
on horseback. These wretched troops, however, were the only guardians of
the empire. The jealousy of despotism had deprived the people of the use of
arms; and subjects, oppressed and rendered incapable of defenditig them-
selves, had neither spirit nor inclination to resist their invaders, from whom
they had little to fear, because their condition could hardly be rendered more
unhappy. At the same time that the martial spirit became extinct, the re-
venues of the empire gradually diminished. The taste for the luxuries of the
East increased to such a pitch in the imperial court, that great sums were
carried into India, from which, in the channel of commerce, money never
returns. By the large subsidies paid to the barbarous nations, a still greater
quantity of specie was withdrawn from circulation. The frontier provinces,
wasted by frequent incursions, became unable to pay che customary tribute ;
and the wealth of the world, which had long centred in the capital of the
empire, ceased to flow thither in the same abimdance, or was diverted into
other channels. The limits of the empire continued to be as extensive as
ever, while the spii-it requisite for its defence dechned, and its resources
were exhausted. A vast body, languid and almost unanimated, became in-
capable of any effort to save itself, and was easily overpowered. The em-
perors, who had the absolute direction of this disordered system, sunk in the
softness of eastern luxury, shut up witliin the walls of a palace, ignorant of
war, unacquainted with affairs, and governed entirely by women and eunuchs,
or by ministers equally elfeminate, trembled at the approach of danger, and,
under circumstances which called for the utmost vigour in council as well
as in action, discovered all the impotent irresolution of fear and of foUy.

In every respect, the condition of the barbarous nations was the reverse of
that of the Ilomans. Amon^ the former, the martial spirit was in fuH vigour;
their leaders were hardy and enterprising ; the arts which had enervated the
Komans were unknown ; and such was the nature of their military institu-
tions, that they brought forces into the field without any trouble, and sup-
ported them at little expense. The mercenary and effeminate troops sta-
tioned on the frontier, astonished at their fierceness, either fled at their ap-
proach, or were routed on the first onset. The feeble expedient to which the
emperors had recourse, of taking large bodies of the barbarians into pay, and
of employing them to repel new invaders, instead of retarding, hastened
the destruction of the empire. These mercenaries soon turned their arms
against their masters, and with greater advantage than ever ; for, by serving
in the Eoman armies, they had acquired all the discipline or skill in war
which the Romans still retained; and, upon adding these to their native
ferocity, they became altogether irresistible.

But though, from these and many other causes, the progress and conquests
of the nations whicli overran the empire became so extremely rapid, they
were accompanied with horrible devastations, and an incredible destruction
of the human species. Civilized nations w;hich take arms upon cool reflec-
tion, from motives of policy or prudence, with a view to guard against some
distant danger, or to prevent some reinote contingency, carry on their hos-
tilities with so little rancour or animosity, that war among them is disarmed
of half its terrors. _ Barbarians are strangers to such refinements. _ They
rush into war with impetuosity, and prosecute it with violence. Their sole
object is to make their enemies feel the weight of their vengeance ; nor does
their rage subside until it be satiated with inflicting on them every possible
calamity. It is with such a spirit that the savfiige tribes in America carry on

SECT. I.] DESOLATION OCCASIONr.D BY TUE BAIILAKIAXS. 5

their petty wars. It was with the same spirit that the more powerful and
no less fierce barbarians in the north of Europe, and of Asia, Tell upon the
Roman empire.

"VVlierever they marclied, their route was marked witli blood. They ra-
vaged or destroyed all around them. Thev made no distinction between
what was sacred and what was profane. T^hey respected no a^e, or sex, or
rank. What escaped the fury of the first inundation, perislied in those
which followed it. The most fertile and populous provmces were converted
into deserts, in which were scattered the ruins of villages and cities that
afforded shelter to a few miserable inliabitants whom chance had preserved,
or the sword of the enemy, wearied with destroying, had spared. The con-
querors who first settled in the countries wliich they hud wasted, were expelled
or extenninated by new invaders, who, coming from regions farther removed
from the civilized parts of the world, were stUl more fierce and rapacious.
This brought fresh calamities upon mankind, wliich did not cease until the
north, by pouring forth successive swarms, was drained of people, and could
no longer furnish instiounents of destruction. Famine and pestilence, which
always march ui the train of war, when it ravages with such inconsiderate
cruelty, ra^ed in every part of Europe, and completed its sufferings. If a man
were called to fix upon the period m the liistory of the world duriag which
the condition of the human race was most calamitous and afflicted, he would,
without hesitation, name that which elapsed from the death of Theodosins the
Great to the establishment of the Lombards in Italy.^ The contemporary
authors who beheld that scene of desolation, laboui- and are at a loss for
expressions to describe the horror of it. The scourge of God, Tlie destroyer of
nutiom, are the dreadful epithets by which they distinguished the most noted
of the oarbarous leaders ; and they compare the ruin which tney had brought
on the world to the liavoc occasioned by earthquakes, conflagrations, or
deluges, the most fonnidable and fatal calamities which the imagination of
man can conceive.

But no expressions can convev so perfect an idea of the destructive pro-
gress of the barbarians as that wnich must strike an attentive observer wnen
he contemplates the total change which he will discover in the state of
Europe, after it began to recover some degree of tranquillity, towards the
close of the sixth century. The Saxons were by that time masters of the
southern and more fertile provinces of Britain; the Eranks of Gaul; the
Huns of Pannonia ; the Goths of Spain ; the Goths and Lombards of Italy
and the adjacent provinces. Very faint vestiges of the Koman policy,
jurisprudence, arts, or literature, remained. New forms of govenmient,
new laws, new manners, new dresses, new languages, and new names of
men and countries, were everywhere introduced. To make a great or sudden
alteration with respect to any of these, imless where the ancient inhabitants
of a country have been ahnost totally exterminated, has proved an undertak-
ing beyond the power of the greatest conquerors. (4) The great change which
the settlement of the barbarous nations occasioned in the state of Europe,
may, therefore, be considered as a more decisive proof than even the testi-
mony of contemporary historians, of the destructive violence with wliich
these invaders carried on their conquests, and of the havoc which they had
made from one extremity of tliis quarter of the globe to the other. (5)

In the obscurity of the chaos oceasiened by this general wTCck of nations,
we must search for the seeds of order, and endeavour to discover the first
rudiments of the policy and laws now established in Europe. To this source

^ Theodosius died a.d. 395 ; the reign of Albomus in Lombardy began a.d. 571 ; so
that this period was 176 years.

6 THE FEDD-NX STSTEM. [s>:CT. I.

the historians of its different kingdoms have altempted, though with less
attention and indnstry than the importance of the inquiry merits, to trace
back the institutions and customs peculiar to their countrym.en. It is not my
province to give a minute detail of the progress of government and manners
m each particular nation, whose transactions are the object of the folloAving
history. But, in order to exhibit a just view of the state of Europe at the
opening of the sixteenth centuiy, it is necessary to look back, and to con-
template the condition of tlie northern nations upon their first settlement in
those countries wliich they occupied. It is necessary to mark the great
steps by which they advanced from barbarism to refinement, and to point
out those general principles and events which, by their uniform as well
as extensive operation, conducted aU of them to that degree of improvement
in policy and iu manners which they had attained at the period when Charles
V.l)egan his reign.

When nations subject to despotic government make conquests, these
serve only to extend the domiuion and the power of their master. But
armies composed of freemen conquer for themselves, not for their leaders.
The people who overtm-ned the Roman empire, and settled in its various
provinces, were of the latter class. Not only the different nations that issued
from the north of Europe, which has always been considered as the seat of
liberty, but the Huns and Alans, who inhabited part of those countries
which have been marked out as the peculiar region of servitude,^ enjoyed
freedom and independence m such a high degree as seems to be scarcely com-
patible with a state of social union, or with the subordination necessary to
maintain it. They followed the chieftain who led them forth in quest of
new settlements, not by constraint, but from choice; not as soldiers whom
he could order to march, but as volunteers who offered to accompany him. (6)
They considered their conquests as a cpmmon property, in which all had a
title to share, as aU had contributed to acquire them. (7) In what man-
ner, or by what principles, they divided among them the lands which th«y
seized, we cannot now determine with any certainty. There is no nation in
Europe whose records reach back to this remote period ; and there is little
information to be got from the unuistractive and meagre chronicles, compiled
by writers ignorant of the true end, and unacquainted with the proper ob-
jects, of history.

This new division of prpperty, however, together with the maxims and
manners to which it gave rise, gradually introduced a species of government
formerly unknown. This singular institution is now distinguished by the
name of the feudal system; and though the barbarous nations which framed
it, settled m theii- new territories at different times, came from different coun-
tries, spoke various languages, and were under the command of separate
leaders, the feudal policy and laws were established, with little variation, in
every kingdom of Europe. This amazing uniformity hath induced some
authors^to beheve tha,t all these nations, notwithstanding so many ap-
parent circumstances of distinction, were originally the same people. But
it may be ascribed, with greater probability, to the similar state of society
and of" rnanners to which thev were accustomed in then- native countries, and
to the similar situation in which they found themselves on taking possession
of their new domains.

As the conquerors of Europe had their acquisitions to maintain, not only
against such of the ancient inhabitants as they had spared, but against the
more formidable im-oads of new invaders, self-defence was their chief care,

2 De TEsprit des Loix, liv xvii, ch. 3.

» ProcoB. de Bello Vandal, ap. Script. Byz. edit. Yen. vol. i. p. 345.

bECT. I.] THE l^EUDAL SYSTEM. 7

and seonis to liave been the chief object of their first institutions and policy.
Instead of those loose associations, wliich, though they scarcely dimiuished
their personal independence, liad been sufficient for their security while
they remained in their original countries, they saw the necessity of uniting
in more close confederacy, and of reUnquishiug some of their private rights
in order to attain public safety. Every freeman, upon receiving a portion
of the lands which were divided, bound himself to appear in arms against
the enemies of the community. This military service was the condition upon
which he received and held his lands ; and as they were exempted from every
other burden, that tenure, among a warlike people, was deemed both easy
and honourable. The king or general, who lea them to conquest, continuing
still to be tlie head of the colony, had, of course, the largest portion allotted
to him. Plaving thus acquired the means of rewarding past services, as" well
as of gaining new adherents, he parcelled out Ms lands with this view, bind-
ing those on whom they were bestowed to resort to his standard with a
number of men in proportion to the extent of the territory which they re-
ceived, and to bear aims in his defence. His chief officers imitated the ex-
ample of the sovereign, and, in distributing portions of their lands amon^ their
dependants, annexed the same condition to the grant. Thus a feudal king-
dom resembled a military establishment, rather than a civil institution. The
victorious army, cantoned out in the countiy which it had seized, continued
ranged under its proper officers, and subordinate to military command.
The names of a sol(lier and of a freeman were synonymous.* Every proprietor
of land, gu-t with a sword, was ready to march at the summons of nis su-
perior, and to take the field against the common enemy.

But thougli the feudal policy seems to be so admirably calculated for de-
fence against the assaults of any foreign power, its provisions for the interior
order and tranquillity of society were extremely defective. The piinciples
of disorder and corruption are discernible in that constitution under its best
and most perfect form. They soon unfolded themselves, and, spreading with
rapidity through every part of the system, produced the most fatal effects.
The bond of political union was extremely feeble ; the sources of anarchy
were innumerable. The monarchical and aristocratical parts of the constitu-
tion, having no intermediate power to balance them, were perpetually at va-
riance, and justling with each other. The powerful vassals of the crown
soon extorted a confirmation for life of those grants of land, which, being at
first purely gratuitous, had been bestowed only during pleasure. Not satis-
fied with this, they prevailed to have them converted into hereditaiy posses-
sions. One step more completed their usurjiations, and rendered them un-
alienable. (8) W ith an ambition no less enterprising, and more preiposterous,
they appropriated to themselves titles of honour, as well as offices of power or
trust. These personal marks of distinction, which the public admiration be-
stows on illustrious merit, or which the public confidence confers on extra-
ordinary abilities, were annexed to certain families, and transmitted like fiefs,
from father to son, by hereditary right. The crown vassals having thus
secured the possession of their lands and dignities, the nature of the feudal
institutions, which, thouj^h founded on subordination, verged to independ-
ence, led them to new ana still more dangerous encroachments on the pre-
rogatives of the sovereign. They obtained the jpower of supreme jurisdic-
tion, both civil and criminal, vrithin their own temtories ; the right of coining
money; together with the privilege of carrying on war against their private
enemies in their own name and by their own authority. The ideas of political
subjection were almost entirely lost, and frequently scarce any appearance of

• Dxx. Cange, Glossar. voc. Milet-

8 THE PEUDAI SYSTEM. [SECT. I.

feudal subordination remained. Nobles, who had acquired such enormous
power, scorned to consider themselves as subjects. They aspired openly at
being independent; the bonds which comiected the principal members of
the constitution with the cro^vn were dissolved. A kmgdom, considerable
in name and in extent, was broken into as many separate principalities as
it contained powerful barons. A thousand causes of jealousy and discord
subsisted among them, and gave rise to as many wars. Every country in
Europe, wasted or kept in continual alarm during these endless contests, was
filled with castles and places of strength erected for the security of the in-
habitants ; not against foreign force, but against internal hostilities. An
universal anarchy, destructive in a great measure of aU the advantages which
men-expect to derive from society, prevailed. The people, the most numerous
as well as the most useful part of the community, were either reduced to a
state of actual servitude, or treated with the same insolence and rigour as
if they had been degraded into that WTctched condition. (9) The king, stripped
of almost every prerogative, and without authority to enact or to execute
salutary laws, could neither protect the innocent nor punish the guilty. The
nobles, superior to all restraint, harassed each other with perpetual wars,
oppressed their feUow-subjects, and humbled or insulted their sovereign.
To cro^vn all, time gradually fixed and rendered venerable this pernicious
system, which violence had established.

Such was the state of Europe with respect to the interior administration
of government from the seventh to the eleventh century. All the external
operations of its various states, during this period, were, of course, extremely
feeble. A kingdom dismembered and torn with dissension, without any com-
mon interest to rouse, or any common head to conduct its force, was in-
capable of acting with vigour. Almost all the wars in Europe, during
the ages which I have mentioned, were trifling, indecisive, and pr9ductive
of no considerable event. They resembled the short incursions of pirates or
banditti, rather than the steady operations of a regular army. Every baron,
at the head of his vassals, carried on some petty enterprise, to which he
was prompted by his own ambition or revenge. The state itself, destitute
of union, either remained altogether inactive, or, if it attempted to make
any effort, that served only to discover its impotence. The superior genius
of Charlemagne, it is true, united all these disjointed and discordant mem-
bers, and formed them again into one body, restored to government that de-
gree of activity which distinguishes his reign, and renders the transactions
of it objects not only of attention but of admiration to more enlightened
times. Eut this state of union and vigour, not being natural to the feudal
government, was of short duration. Immediately upon his death, the spirit
which animated and sustained the vast system which he had established, being
withdrawn, it broke into pieces. All tlie calamities which flow from anarchy
and discord, returning with additional force, afilicted the different kingdoms
into which his empire was split. Erom that time to the eleventh century, a
succession of uninteresting events, a series of wars, the motives as well as
the consequences of which were unimportant, fill and deform the annals of
all the nations in Europe.

To these pernicious effects of the feudal anarchy may be added its fatal
influence on the character and improvement of the human mind. If men do
not enjoy the protection of regular government, together with the expecta-
tion of personal security, which naturally flows from it, they never attempt
to make progress in science, nor aim at attaining refinement in taste or ia
manners. That period of turbulence, oppression, and rapine, which I have
described, was ill-suited to favour improvement in any of these. In less than
a century after the barbarous nations settled in their new conquests, almost

SECT. I.] ARTS, LITERATUBI, AND RELIGION. 9

all the effects of the knowledge and civility, which the Romans had spread
throughout Europe, disappeared. Not only the arts of elegance, which
minister to luxury, and are supported by it, but many of the useful arts,
without wliich life can scarcely be considered as comfortable, were neglected
or lost. Literature, science, taste, were words little in use during the ages
which we ai'C contemplating; or, if they occur at any time, eminence in them
is ascribed to persons and productions so contemptible, that it appears
their true import was little understood. Persons of the highest rank, and
in the most eminent stations, could not read or write. Many of tlie clergy
did not understand the breviary which they were obliged daily to recite;
some of them could scarcely read it. (10) The memory of past transac-
tions was, in a great degree, lost, or preseiTed in aimajs filled with trifling
events, or legendary tales. Even the codes of laws, published by the sever^
nations which established themselves in the different countries of Europe,
fell into disuse, wlule, in their place, customs, vague and capricious, were
substituted. The human mind, neglected, uncultivated, and depressed,
continued in the most profound ignorance. Europe, during four centuries,
produced few authors who merit to be read, either on account of the elegance
of their composition, or the justness and novelty of their sentiments. There
are few inventions useful or ornamental to society of which that long period
can boast.

Even the Christian religion, though its precepts are delivered, and its in-
stitutions are fixed in Scripture, with a precision which should have ex-
empted them from being misinterpreted or corrupted, degenerated, during
those ages of darkness, into an illiberal superstition. The barbarous nations,
when converted to Christianity, changed the object, not the spirit, of their
religious worship. They endeavoured to conciliate the favour of the true God
by means not unlike to those which they had employed in order to appease
their false deities. Instead of aspiring to sanctity and virtue, which alone
can render men acceptable to the great Author of order and of excellence,
they imagined that they satisfied every obligation of duty by a scrupulous
observance of external ceremonies. (11) Religion, according to their con-
ceptions of it, comprehended notliing else; and the rites, by which they
persuaded themselves that they could gain the favour of Heaven, were of
such a nature as might have been expected from the rude ideas of the ages
which devised and introduced them. They were either so unmeaning as ta
be altogether unworthy ot the Being to whose honour they were consecrated ;
or so absurd as to be a disgrace to reason and humanity. (12) Charle-
magne in France, and Alfred the Great in England, endeavoured to dispel
this darkness, and gave their subjects a short glimpse of light and knowledge.
But the ignorance of the age was too powerful for their efforts and institu-
tions. The darkness returned, and settled over Europe more thick and heavy
than before.

As the inhabitants of Europe during these centuries were straiigers to the
arts which embellish a polished a^e, they were destitute of the virtues which
abound among people who continue in a simple state. Eorce of mind, a
sense of personal dignity, gallantry in enterprise, invincible perseverance in
execution, contempt of danger ana of death, are t"he characteristic virtues of
uncivilized nations. But tnese arc all the offspring of equalitv and inde-
pendence, both which the feudal institutions had destroyed. The spirit of
domination corrupted the nobles, the yoke of servitude depressed the people,
the generous sentiments inspired by a sense of equality were extinguished,
and Iiardly anytlnng remained to be a cheek on ferocity and violence. Human
society is in its most corrupted state, at that period when men have lost
their orisiu*^ i^ependence and simplicity of manners, but have not attained

fi) THE CRUSADES. [SECT. I.

that de^ee of refinement whicli introduces a sense of decorum and of projDriety
in conduct, as a restraint on those passions which lead to heinous crimes.
Accordingly, a greater number of those atrocious actions which fill the mind
of man with astonishment and horror, occur in the history of the centuries
■Qnder review, than in that of any period of the same extent in the annals of
Europe. If we open the history of Gregory of Tours, or of any contemporary
author, we meet with a series of deeds of cruelty, perfidy, and revenge, so
wild and enormous, as almost to exceed behef.

But, according to the observation of an elegant and profound historian,*
there is an ultimate point of depression as well as of exaltatioi\, from which
numan aflairs naturally return in a contrary progress, and beyond whicli
they never pass either m their advancement or decline. "When defects,
either in the form or in the administration of government, occasion such dis-
orders in society as are excessive and intolerable, it becomes the common iai-
terest to discover and to apply such remedies as will most effectually re-
move them. Slight inconveniences may be long overlooked or endured;
but when abuses grow to a certain pitch, the society must go to niin, or must
attempt to reform them. The disorders in the feudal system, together with
the coiTuption of taste and manners consequent upon these, which had gone
on increasing during a long course of years, seemed to have attained their
utmost point of excess towards the close of the eleventh century. Erom that
era, we may date the return of government and manners in a contrary-
direction, and can trace a succession of causes and events which contributed,
some with a nearer and more conspicuous, others with a more remote and less
percej)tible influence, to abolish confusion and barbarism, and to introduce
order, regularity, and refinement.

In pointing out and explaining these causes and events, it is not necessary
to observe the order of time with a chronological accuracy; it is of more
importance to keep in view their mutual connexion and dependence, and to
show how the operation of one event, or one cause, prepared the way for
another, and augmented its influence. We have hitherto been contemplating
the progress of that darkness which spread over Europe, from its first approach
to the period of greatest obscuration j a more pleasant exercise begitis here ;
to observe the fii'st dawnings of returmng light, to mark the various accessions
by which it gradually increased and advanced towai'ds the full splendour of
day.

I. The crusades, or expeditions in order to rescue the Holy Land out of
the hands of infidels, seemed to be the first event that roused Europe from the
lethargy in which it had been long sunk, and that tended to introduce any
considerable change in government or in manners. It is natural for the
human mind to view those places which have been distinguished by being the
residence of any illustrious personage, or the scene of any great transaction,
with some degree of delight and veneration. To this principle must be
ascribed the superstitious devotion with which Christians, from the earliest
ages of the church, were accustomed to visit that country which the Ahnighty
had selected as the inheritance of his favourite people, and in which the Son
of God had accomplished the redemption of mankind. As this distant pil-

fiimage could not be perfoi-med without considerable expense, fatigue, and
anger, it appeared the more meritorious, and came to be considered as an
expiation for almost every crime. An opinion which spread with rapidity
over Europe about the close of the tenth and beginning of the eleventh
century, and which gained universal credit, wonderfully augmented the
number of credulous pilgrims, and increased the ai'dour with which they

* Hume's History of England, vol. u. p. 441.

SECT. I. ] THE CRUSADES. U

undertook this useless voyage. Tlie thousand years mentioned by St. John^"

were supposed to be accoinplislicd, and the end of the world to be at hand.

A f^eneral consternation seiz(;d mankind • many relinquished theii" possessions,

rand, abandoning their friends and families, humed witli precipitation to the

loly Land, where they imagmcd tliat Christ would quickly appear to judge

le world.' Wliile Palestine continued subject to the caliphs, they liaa en-

)m-aged the resort of pilgrims to Jerusalera, and considered this as a

jneficial species of commerce, which brought into their dominions gold and

Iver, and carried nothing out of tliera but relies and consecrated trinkets.

it the Turks having conquered Syria about the middle of the eleventh

jnturj', pilgrims were exposed to outrages of every kind from these fierce

L'barians.^ This change happening precisely at the juncture when the panic

)r which I have mcnti«ned rendered pilgrimages most frequent, filled

)pe with alarm and indignation. Every person who returned from Pa-

jtine related the dangers which he had encountered in visiting the holy

iStv and described with exaggeration the cruelty and vexations of the Turks.

When the minds of men were thus prepai-ed, the zeal of a fanatical monk,

rho conceived the idea of leading all tlie forces of Christendom against the

idels, and of driving them out of the Holy Land by violence, was sufficient

give a beginning to that wild enterprise. Peter the Hennit, for that was

~the name of this martial apostle, ran from province to province with a crucifix

in his hand, exciting princes and people to this holy war, and wherever he

came kindled the same enthusiastic ai-doiir for it with which he himself was

animated. The council of Placentia, where upwards of thirty thousand

persons were assembled, pronounced the scheme to have been suggested by

the immediate inspii-ation of Heaven. Li the council of Clennont, still more

numerous, as soon as the measure was proposed, all cried out with one voice,

" It is the will of God." Persons of aU ranks caught the contagion ; not only

the gallant nobles of that age, with their martial followers, whom we may

suppose apt to be allured by the boldness of a romantic enterprise, but men

in the more humble and pacific stations of life ; ecclesiastics of every order,

and even women and children, engaged with emulation in an undertaking

which was deemed sacred and meritorious. If we may bebeve the concurring

testimony of contemporary authors, six millions of persons assumed the cross,'

which was the badge that distinguished such as devoted themselves to this

holy warfare. All Europe, says the princess Anna Comnena, torn up from

the foundation, seemed ready to precipitate itself in one united body upon

Asia.'** Nor did the fumes of tins enthusiastic zeal evaporate at once : the

frenzy was as lasting as it was extravagant. During two centuries, Europe

' eems to have had no object but to recover, or keep possession of, the Holy

Land ; and through that period vast armies contiiiued to march thither. (13)

The fii-st efforts of valour, animated by enthusiasm, were irresistible; part

of the lesser Asia, all Syria, and Palestine, were wrested from the infidels ;

the banner of the cross was displayed on Mount Sion ; Constantinople, the

capital of the Christian empire in the East, was afterwards seized by a body

of those adventurers, who had taken arms against the Maliometans ; and an

6 Revel. XX. 2, 3, 4.

" Chronic. Will. Godelli ap. Bouquet, Recueil des Historiens de France, torn. s. ]). 262.
Vita Abonis, ibid. p. 332. Chronic. S. Pantaleonis ap. Eccard. Corp. Scrip. Medii iEvi,
vol. i. p. 909. Annalista Saxo, ibid. 576.

8 Jo. Dan. Schoepflini de sacris GaUorum in Orientem Expeditionibus, p. 4, Argent.
1726, 4to.

» Fulcherins Camotensis ap. Bongarsii Gesta Dei per Francos, vol. L 387, edit. Han.
1611.

" Alexias, lib. x. ap. Byz. Script, vol. xi. p. 224.

12 THE CEUSADES. LSECT. I.

earl of Elanders and his descendants kept possession of the imperial throne
during half a century. But though the first impression of the crusaders was
so unexpected that they made their conquests with great ease, they found
infinite difficulty in preserving i hem. Establishments so distant from Europe,
surrounded by warhke nations, animated with fanatical zeal scarcely inferior
to that of the crusaders themselves, were perpetually in danger of being over-
turned. Before the expiration of the thirteenth century [1291], the Christians
were driven out of all their Asiatic possessions, in acquiring of which in-
credible numbers of men had perished, and immense sums of money had
been wasted. The only common enterprise in which the European nations
ever engaged, and which t\\ej^ all undertook with equal ardoui", remains a
singular monument of human folly.

But from these expeditions, extravagant as they were, beneficial conse-
quences followed, which had neither been foreseen nor expected. In their
progress towards the Holy Land, the followers of the cross marched through
countries better cultivated and more civilized than their own. Their first
rendezvous was commonly in Italy, in which Yenice, Genoa, Pisa, and other
cities, had begun to apply themselves to commerce, and had made con-
siderable advances towards wealth as well as refinement. They embarked
there, and, landing in Dalmatia, pursued their route by land to Constan-
tinople. Though the military spirit had been long extinct in the eastern
empire, and a despotism of the worst species had annihilated almost every
public virtue, yet Constantinople, having never felt the destructive rage of
the barbarous nations, was the greatest, as well as the most beautiful city in
Europe, and the only one in which there remained any image of the ancient
elegance in manners and arts. The naval power of the eastern empire was
considerable. Manufactures of the most curious fabric were carried on in. its
domuiions. Constantinople was the chief mart in Europe for the commodities
of the East Indies. Although the Saracens and Turks had torn from the
empire many of its richest provinces, and had reduced it withia very narrow
bounds, yet great wealth flowed into the capital from these various sources,
which not only cherished such a taste for magnificence, but kept aKve such a
relish for the sciences, as appears considerable, when compared with what was
known in other parts of Europe. Even in Asia, the Europeans, who had
assumed the cross, found the remains of the knowledge and arts which the
example and encouragement of the caliphs had diffused through their empire.
Although the attention of the historians of the crusades was fixed on other
objects than the state of society and manners among the nations which they
invaded ; although most of them had neither taste nor discernment enougn
to describe^ these, they relate, however, such signal acts of humanity and
generosity in the conduct of Saladin, as well as some other leaders of the
Mahometans, as give us a very high idea of their manners. It was not possible
for the crusaders to travel through so many countries, and to behold their
various customs and institutions, without acquiring information and improve-
ment. Their views enlarged ; their prejudices wore off; new ideas crowded
into their minds ; and they must have been sensible, on many occasions, of the
rusticity of their own mamiers when compared with those of a more poHshed
people. These impressions were not so slight as to be effaced upon their
return to then* native countries. A close intercourse subsisted between the
East and West during two centuries • new armies were continually marching
from Europe to Asia, while former adventurers returned home, and imported
many of the customs to which they had been familiarized by a long residence
abroad. Accordingly we discover, soon after the commencement of the
crusades, greater splendour in the courts of princes, greater pomp in public
ceremonies, a more refined taste in pleasure and amusements, together with a

SECT. 1. 1 BENEFICIAL EFFECTS. 13

more romantic spirit of entei-prise, spreading gradually over Europe; and to
those wild expeditions, the effect of superstition or folly, we owe the first
gleams of liglit which tended to dispel barbarism and i{?norance.

But these benelicial consequences of the crusades took place slowly: their
Influence upon the state of property, and consequently of power, in the dif-
ferent kingdoms of Europe, was more immediate, as well as discernible. The
nobles who assumed the cross, and bound themselves to march to the Holy
Land, soon perceived that great sums were necessary towards defraying the
expense of such a distant expedition, and enabling tnem to appear with suit-
ablt! dignity at the head of their vassals. But the genius of the feudal system
M as averse to the imposition of extraordinary taxes ; and subjects in that
age were unaccustomed to pay them. No expedient remained for lev>'ing
the sums requisite, but the sale of their possessions. As men were inflamed
with romantic expectations of the splendid conquests which they hoped to
make in Asia, and possessed with such zeal for recovering the Holy Land as
swallowed up every other passion, they relinqtdshed their ancient inneritances
without any reluctance, and for prices far below their value, that they mi^ht
sally forth as adventurers in quest of new settlements in unknown countries.
The monarehs of the great kingdoms in the West, none of whom had engaged
in the first crusade, eagerly seized tliis opportunitv of annexing considerable
territories to their crowns at small expense." besides tliis, several great
barons, who perished in the holy war, having left no heirs, their fiefs reverted
of course to their respective sovereigns ; and by these accessions of property,
as well as power taken from the one scale and thro\vn into the other, the
regal authority rose in proportion as that of the aristocracy declined. Tiio
absence, too, of many potent vassals, accustomed to control and give law to
their sovereigns, aflbrded them an opportunity of extending their prerogative,
and of acquiring a degree of weight in the constitution which they did noi.
formerly possess. To these cu'curastances we may add, that as all who as-
sumed the cross were taken under the immediate protection of the church.
and its heaviest anathemas were denounced against such as should disquiet or
annoy those who had devoted themselves to this service, the private quarrek
and hostilities which banished tranquillity from a feudal kingdom, were sus-
pended or extinguished ; a more general and steady administration of justice
began to be introduced, and some advances were made towards the establish-
ment of regular government in the several kingdoms of Europe.'^ (14)

The commercial effects of the crusades were not less considerable than those
which I have alreadv mentioned. The first armies under the standard of the
cross, which Peter the Hermit and Godfi-ey of Bouillon led through Geraiany
and Hungary to Constantinople', suffered so much by the length of tlie march,
as well as by the fierceness of the barbarous people who inhabited those
countries, that it deterred others from taking the same route ; and, rather
than encounter so many dangers, they chose to go by sea. Venice, Genoa,
and Pisa furnished the transports on which they embarked. The sum which
these cities received merely for freight from such numerous armies was im-
mense.'^ Tliis, however, was but a small part of what they gained by the
expeditions to the Holy Land • the crusaders contracted' with them for
military stores and provisions 5 their fleets kept on the coast as the armies
advanced by land; and, supplymg them with whatever was wanting, engrossed
all the profits of a branch of commerce which, in every age, has been extremely
lucrative. The success which attended the arms of the crusaders was pro-

» Wilhelm. Malmsbur. Guibert. Abbas ap. Bongars. vol. i. 481.

" Du Cange, Glossar. voc. Cruce signatus. Guil. Abbas ap. Bongars. vol. i. 480 482,

'• Muratori, Antiquit, Italic. Medii Jlvi, vol. il 905.

14 ES'i'ABLlSHMENT OF COMMUNITIES. [SECT. I.

dnetive of advantages still more permaiient. There are charters yet extant,
containing grants to the Venetians, Pisans, and Genoese, of the most ex-
tensive immunities in the several settlements which the Christians made in
Asia. All the commodities which they imported or exported are thereby
exempted from every hnposition ; the property of entire suburbs in some of
the maritime towns, and of large streets in others, is vested in them ; and aU
questions arising among persons settled within their precincts, or who traded
under their protection, are appointed to be tried by their own laws, and by
judges of their own ap]3ointment.'* When the crusaders seized Constan-
tinople, and placed one of their OAvn leaders on the imperial tlirone, the Italian
states were likewise gainers by that event. The Venetians, who had planned
the enterprise, and took a considerable part in carrying it into execution, did
not neglect to secui-e to themselves the chief advantages redounding from its
success. They made tliemselves masters of part of the ancient Peloponnesus
in Greece, together with some of the most fertile islands in the Archipelago.
Many valuable branches of the commerce, which formerly centred in Constan-
tinople, were transferred to Venice, Genoa, or Pisa. Thus a succession of
events, occasioned by the holy war, opened various soui'ces from which
wealth flowed in such abundance into these cities, '^ as enabled them, in con-
currence with another institution, which shall be immediately mentioned, to
secure their o^vn liberty and independence.

II. The institution to which I alluded was the forming of cities into com-
munities, corporations, or bodies politic, and granting them the privilege of
municipal jurisdiction, which contributed more, perhaps, than any other cause,
to introduce regular government, police, and arts, and to diffuse them over
Europe. The feudal government had degenerated into a system of oppression.
The usurpations of the nobles were become unbounded and intolerable ; they
had reduced the great body of the people iuto a state of actual servitude : the
condition of those dignified with the name of fi*eemen was often little pre-
ferable to that of the other. Nor w'as such oppression the portion of those
alone who dwelt in the country, and were employed in cultivatiag the estate
of their master. Cities and villages found it necessary to hold of some great
lord, on w4iom they might depend for protection, and become no less subject
to his arbitrary jurisdiction. The inhabitants were deprived of those rights
which, ia social life, are deemed most natural and inalienable. They could
not disj)ose of the effects which their own industry had acquired, either by a
latter will or by any deed executed during their life.''*' They had no right to
appoint guardians for theii' children during their minority. They were not
permitted to marry without purchasing the consent of the lord on whom they
depended. '" If once they had commenced a lawsuit, they durst not terminate
it by an accommodation, because that would have deprived the lord, in whose
court they pleaded, of the perquisites due to him on passing sentence.'* Ser-
vices of various kinds, no less disgraceful than oppressive, were exacted from
them without mercy or moderation. The spirit of industry was checked in
some cities by absui-d reflations, and in others by unreasonable exactions ;
nor would the narrow and oppressive maxims of a military aristocracy have
permitted it ever to rise to any degree of height or vigour. '**

1* Muratori, Antiqnit. Italic. Medii iEvi, vol. ii. 906, &c.

^5 Villeliardoin, Hist, de Constant, sous I'Empereurs Fran9ois, 105, &c.

" Dacherii Spiceleg. torn. xi. 374, 375, edit, m Ito. Grdonnances dea Eois de France,
torn. iii. 204. No. 2, 6.

1' Ordonnances des Eois de France, torn. i. p. 22, tom. iii. 203. No. 1, Murat, Antiq
Ital. vol. iv. p. 20. Dacher. Spicel. vol. ix. 325, 341.

" Dacher. Spicel. vol. ix. 182.

" M. i'Abb^ Mably, Observat. sur THist. de France, tom. ii. pj> 2, 96.

T. I.] GKOWTH OP MUNICIPAL INSTITUTIONS. IS

ilut as soon as the cities of Italy began to turn their attention towards
. . iiiracrce, and to Conceive some idea of the advantages which they might
derive from it, they became impatient to shake off the yoke of their insolent
lords, and to establish among themselves such a free and ecmal government
as would render property secui-c, and industry flourishing. The German em-

(erors, especially those of the Franconian and Suabian lines, as the seat of
^r government was far distant IVom Italy, possessed a feeble and imperfect
■Bdjction in that country. Their pei-petual quan-els, either with the po^es
fcrith their own turbulent vassals, diverted their attention from the interior
■ce of Italy, and gave constant employment to their arms. These circum-
fcces encoui-aged the inhabitants of some of the Italian cities, towards the
Bginning of the eleventh centurv", to assume new privileges, to unite together
more closely, and to fomi themselves into bodies politic under the government
of laws established by common consent.^o The rights which many cities ac-
quired by bold or fortunate usurpations, others purchased from the emperors,
who deemed themselves gainers when they received large sums for immunities
which they were no longer able to withhold ; and some cities obtained them
gratuitouslv, from the generosity or facility of the princes on whom they de-
pended, 'the great iacrease of wealth which the crusades brought into Italy
occasioned a new kind of fermentation and activity in the minds of the people,
and excited such a general passion for liberty and independence, that betore
the conclusion of the last crusade, all the considerable cities iu that country
had either purchased or had extorted large immunities from the emperors. (15)
This innovation was not lona: known iu Italy before it made its way into
France. Louis le Gros, in order to create some power that might counter-
balance those potent vassals who controlled, or gave law to the crown, first
adopted the plan of conferring new privileges on the towns situated within
its own domain. [11 OS— 1137. J These privileges were called charters of
community, by which he enfranchised the inhabitants, abolished all marks of
semtude, and formed them into corporations of bodies politic, to be governed
by a council and magistrates of their own nomination. These magistrates
had the right of administering justice within their own preciucts, of levying
taxes, of embodjing and trainmg to arms the mi'itia of the tow^l, which took
the field when required by the sovereign, under the command of officers a]p-
pointed by the comnnunity. The great barons imitated the example of their
monarch, and granted like immunities to the towns within theii- territories.
They had wasted such great sums in their expeditions to the Holy Land, that
they were eager to lay hold on this new expedient for raising money, by the
sale of those charters of liberty. Though the iustitution of communities was
as repugnant to their maxims of policy as it was adverse to their power, they
disregarded remote consequences, in order to obtain present relief. In less
than two centuries, servitude was abolished in most of the towns of France,
and they became free corporations, instead of dependent villages, without
jurisdiction or privileges. (16) Much about the same period the great cities
in Germany began to acquire like immunities, and laid the foundation of their
present liberty and iudependence. (17.) The practice spread quickly over
Europe, and was adopted in Spain, England, Scotland, and all the other
feudal kingdoms. (18)

The good effects of this new institution were immediately felt, and its in-
fluence on government as well as manners was no less extensive than salutary.
A great body of the people was released from servitude, and from all the ar-
bitraiy and grievous impositions to which that wretched condition had sub-
jected them. Towns, upon acquiring the right of community, became so

** Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. It. p. 6.

16 GROWTH OF MUNICIPAL INSTITUTIONS. [sECT. I.

many little republics, governed by known and equal laws. Liberty was
deemed such an essential and characteristic part in their 'constitution, that if
any slave took refuge in one of them, and resided there during a year without
being clauned, he was instantly declared a freeman, and admitted a member
cf the community .^^

As one part of the people owed their liberty to the erection of communities,
another was indebted to them for their security. Such had been the state of
Europe during several centuries, that self-preservation obKged every man to
court the patronage of some powerful baron, and in times of danger his castle
was the place to which all resorted for safety. But towns surrounded with
walls, whose inhabitants were regularly trained to aims, and bomid by in-
terest, as well as by the most solemn engagements, reciprocally to defend
each other, afforded a more commodious and secure retreat. The nobles
began to be considered as of less importance when they ceased to be the sole
guardians to whom the people could look up for protection against violence.

If the nobility suffered some diminution of their credit and power by the
privileges granted to the cities, the crown acquired an increase of both. As
there were no regular troops kept on foot in any of the feudal kingdoms, the
monarch could bring no army into the field, but what was composed of soldiers
furnished by the crown vassals, always jealous of the regal authority ; nor had
he any funds for cariying on the public service but such as they gi-anted him
with a very sparing hand. But when the members of commmiities were per-
mitted to bear arms, and were trained to the use of them, this in some degree
supplied the first defect, and gave the crown the command of a body of men,
independent of its great vassals. The attachment of the cities to their sove-
reigns, whom they respected as the first authors of their liberties, and whom
they were obliged to court as the protectors of their immunities against the
domineering spuit of the nobles, contributed somewhat towards removing
the second evil, as, on many occasions, it procured the crown supplies of
money, which added new force to government. '■^■^

The acquisition of liberty made such a happy change in the condition of aU
the members of communities, as roused them frctoi that inaction into which
they had been sunk by the wretchedness of their former state. The spirit
of industry revived. Commerce became an object of attention, and began to
flourish. Population increased. Independence was established ; and wealth
flowed into cities which had long been the seat of poverty and oppression.
Wealth was accompanied by its usual attendants, ostentation and luxury ;
and though the former was formal and cumbersome, and the latter inelegant,
they led gradually to greater refinement in manner, and in the habits of life.
Together with this improvement in manners, a more regular species of go-
vernment and police was introduced. As cities grew to be more populous,
and the occasions of intercourse among men increased, statutes and regu-
lations multiplied of course, and all became sensible tha,t their common safety
depended on observing them with exactness, and on punishing such as violated
them with promptitude and rigour. Laws and subordination, as weU as po-
lished manners, taking their rise on cities, diffused themselves insensibly
through the rest of the society.

III. The inhabitants of cities, haying obtained personal freedom and mu-
nicipal jurisdiction, soon aoq-uired civil liberty and political power. It was a
fundamental principle in tae feudal system of policy, that no freeman could
be subjected to new laws or taxes unless by nis own consent. In conse-

*' Statut. Humbert! Bellojoci, Dacher. Spicel. vol. ix. 182; 185. Charta Comit. Forens.
ibid. 193.
» OrdoD. dcs Rois de France, torn. i. 602, 785; torn, il 318, 422.

SECT. I.] GROWTH OF MUNICIPiLL INSTITUTIONS. if

auence of this, the vassals of every baron were called to his court, in which
tiey established, by mutual consent, such regulations as they deemed most
beneficial to their snudl society, and granted their superior such supplies
of money as were proportioned to their abilities, or to his wants. The barons
themselves, conformably to the same maxim, were admitted into the supreme
assembly of the nation, and concurred with the sovereign in enacting laws,
or in imposing taxes. As the superior lord, according to the original plan of
feudal policy, retained the direct property of those lands whicli he gi-anted
in temporary possession to his vassals ; the law, even after fiefs became here-
ditary, still supposed this original practice to subsist. The great coiincil of
each nation, wliether distinguished by the name of a parliament, a diet, the
cortes, or tne states-general, was composed entirely of such barons and dig-
nified ecclesiastics, as held immediately of the crown. Towns, whether
situated within the royal domain or on the lands of a subject, depended
originally for protection on the lord of whom they held. They had no legal
name, no political existence, which could entitle them to be admitted into the
legislative assembly, or could give them any authority there. But as soon as
thev were eniVancliised, and formed into bodies corporate, they became legal
and independent members of the constitution, and acqidred all the rights
essential to freemen. Amongst these, the most valuable was the privilege
of a decisive voice in enacting public laws, and granting national subsidies.
It was natural for cities, accustomed to a form ot municipal government, ac-
cording to which no regulation coidd be established within the community,
and no money could be raised, but by their own consent, to claim this privi-
lege. The wealth, the power, and consideration, which they acquired on
recovering their liberty, added weight to their claim ; and favourable events
happened, or fortunate eoniunctnres occurred, in the diflerent kingdoms of
Europe, which facilitated their obtaining possession of this important right.
In England, one of the first countries in which the representatives of boroughs
were admitted into the great council of the nation, the barons who took arms
against Henry III. [1265] summoned them to attend parliament, in order
to add greater popularity to their party, and to strengthen the barrier against
the encroachment of regal j)ower. In Erance, Philip the Eair, a monarch no
less sagacious than enterprising, considered them as mstruments which might
be employed with equal advantage to extend the royal prerogative, to coun-
terbalance the exorbitant power of the nobles, and to facilitate the impo-
sition of new taxes. "With these views, he introduced the deputies of such
towns as were fonned into communities into the states-general of the nation."'
In the empire, the wealth and immunities of the imperial cities placed them
on a level with the most considerable members of the Gennanic body. Con-
scious of their own power and dignity, they pretended to the privilege of
forming a separate bench in the diet ; and made good their pretensions.^*

[1293.] But in what way soever the representatives of cities first gained a
place in the legislature, that event had great influence on the form and genius
of government. It tempered the rigour of aristocratical oppression with a
proper mixture of popular liberty ; it secured to the great body of the people,
who had formerly no representatives, active and powerful guardians of their
rights and privileges • it established an intermediate power between the long
and the nobles, to which each had recourse alternately, and which at some
times opposed the usurpations of the former, on other occasions checked the
encroaciiments of the latter. As soon as the representatives of communities
gained any degree of credit and influence in the legislature, the spirit of laws

*» Pasquier, Recherches de la France, ap. 81, edit. Par. 1633.
«* Pfefiel, Abre'ge' de I'Histoire et Droit d'Alkmagne, pp. 408, 451.
G

18 ENFBANCHISEME^^T OP THE PEOPLE. [ SECT. I.

became different from what it had forpaerly been ; it flowed irom new prin-
ciples ; it was directed towards new objects ; equality, order, the pubHc good,
and the redress of grievances, were phrases and ideas brought into use, and
which grew to be familiar in the statutes and jurisprudence of the European
nations. Almost all the efforts in favour of hberty in every country in Europe
have been made by this new power in the legislature. In proportion as it
rose to consideration and influence, the severity of the aristocratical spirit
decreased ; and the privileges of the people became gradually more extensive,
as the ancient and exorbitant jurisdiction of the nobles was abridged. (19)

IV. The inhabitants of towns having been declared free by the charters of
communities, that part of the people which resided in the country, and was
employed in agriculture, began to recover liberty by enfranchisement. During
the rigour of feudal government, as hath been already observed, the great
body of the lower people was reduced to servitude. They were slaves fixed
to the soil which they cultivated, and together with it were transfeiTcd from
one proprietor to another, by sale or by conveyance. The spirit of feudal
policy did not favour the enlranchisement of that order of men. It was an
established maxim, that no vassal could legally diminish the value of a fief,
to the detriment of the lord from whom he had received it. In consequence
of this, manumission by the authority of the immediate master was not valid ;
and unless it was confirmed by the superior lord of whom he held, slaves
belonging to the fief did not acquire a complete right to their liberty. Thus
it became necessary to ascend through all tne gradations of feudal holding to
the king, the lord paramount." A form of procedure so tedious and trouble-
some, discouraged the practice of manumission. Domestic or personal slaves
often obtained liberty from the humanity or beneficence of their masters, to
whom they belonged in absolute property. The condition of slaves fixed to the
soil was much more unalterable.

But the freedom and indepeifdence which one part of the people had ob->
tained by the institution of communities, inspired the other with the most
ardent desire of acquiring the same privileges ; and their superiors, sensible
of the various advantages which they had derived from their former con-
cessions to their dependants, were less unwilling to gratify them by the
grant of new immunities. The enfranchisement of slaves became more fre-
quent ; and the monarchs of Erance, prompted by necessity no less than by
their inclination to reduce the power of the nobles, endeavoui-ed to render it
general, 1315 — 18. Louis X. and Philij) the Long issued ordinances, de-
claring, "that as all men were by nature free bom, and as tlieir kingdom was
called the kingdom of Eranks, they determined that it should be so in reaUty
as well as in name ; therefore they appointed that enfrancliisements should
be granted throughout the whole kingdom, upon just and reasonable con-
ditions." -^ These edicts were canied into immediate execution within the
royal domain. The example of their sovereigns, together with the expec-
tation of considerable sums which they might raise by tliis expedient, led
many of the nobles to set then- dependants at Hberty; and servitude was
gradually abolished in almost every province 9f the kingdom. (20) In Italy,
the estabHshment of republican government in their great cities, the genius
and maxims of which were extremely different from those of the feudal policy,
together with the ideas of equality, which the progress of commerce had ren-
dered familiar, gradually introduced the practice of enfranchising the ancient
predial slaves. In some provinces of Germany, the persons who had been
eabject to this species of bondage were released ; in others, the rigour of their

" Establissements de St Louis, lir. ii. ch. 34. Ordon. torn. i. 283, note (a).
*« Ordon. torn. i. pp. 588, 653.

SECT. I ] ADMINISTRATION OP JUSTICE. 19

state was mitigated. In England, as tlie spirit of liberty gained ^ouna,
the very name and idea of personal servitude, without any formal interpo-
sition of the legislature to prohibit it, was totally banished.

The effects o-f such a remarkable change in the condition of so great a part
of the people, could not fail of being considerable and extensive. The hus-
bandman, master of his own industry, and secure of reaping for hiraseK the
fruits of his labour, became the farmer of the same lielas where he had for-
merly been compelled to toil for the benefit of another. The odious names of
master and of slave, the most mortifying and depressing of all distinctions to
human nature, were abolished. New prospects opened, and new incitements
to ingenuitv and enterprise presented themselves to those who were eman-
cipated. The expectation of bettering their fortune, as well as that of raisiu^,
themselves to a more honourable condition, concuiTcd in calling forth their
activity and genius ; and a numerous class of men, who formerly had no
political existence, and were employed merely as instruments of labour, be-
came useful citizens, and contributed towards augmenting the force or riches
of the society which adopted them as members.

V. The various expedients which were employed in order to introduce a
more regular, equal, and vigorous administration of justice, contributed
greatly towards the improvement of society. What were the particular
modes of dispensing justice, in their several countries, among the various
barbarous nations which overran the Roman empire, and took possession
of its different provinces, cannot now be determined with certainty. We
mav conclude, trom the form of government estabhshed among them, as
well as from their ideas concerning the nature of society, that the authority
of the magistrate was extremely limited, and the independence of indivi-
duals proportionally great. History and records, as far as these reach back,
justify this conclusion, and represent the ideas and exercise of justice in all
the countries of Europe as little different from those which must take place
in the most simple state of civil life. To maintain the order and tranquillity
of society by the regular execution of known laws • to inflict vengeance
on crimes destructive of the peace and safety of individuals, by a prosecution
carried on in the name and oy the authority of the community; to consider
the punishment of criminals as a public example to deter others from vio-
lating the laws ; were objects of govermnent little understood in theory, and
less regarded in practice. The magistrate could hardly be said to hold the
sword of justice ; it was left in the hands of private persons. Resentment
was almost the sole motive for prosecuting crimes ; and to gratify that passion
was considered as the chief end in punishing them. He who suffered the
wrong, was the only person who had a right to pursue the aggressor, and to
exact or to remit the punishment. Erom a system of judicial procedure so
crude and defective, tnat it seems to be scarcely compatible with the sub-
sistence of civil society, disorder and anarchy flowed. Superstition concurred
with this ignorance concerning the nature of government, in obstructing the
administration of justice, or in rendering it capricious and unequal. To
provide remedies for these evils, so as to give a more regular course to
justice, was, during several centuries, one great object of political wisdom.
The regulations for this purpose may be reduced to three general heads : to
explain these, and to point out the manner in which they operated, is an
important article in the history of society among the nations of^Europe.

_ 1, The first considerable step towards establishing an equal admimstration
of justice, was the abolishment of the right wliich individuals claimed ol
waging war with each other, in their own name, and by their own authority.
To repel injuries, and to revenge wrongs, is no less natural to man than to
cultivate friendship; and while society remains in its most simple stat«

c2

20 PERNICIOUS EFFECTS OF PRIVATE WARS. [SECT. I,

the former is considered as a personal right, no less unalienable than the
latter. Nor do men in this situation deem that they have a title to redress
their own wrongs alone ; they are touched with the injmies done to those
with whom they are connected, or in whose honour they are interested, and
are no less prompt to avenge them. The savage, how imperfectly soever he
may comprehend the principles of political union, feels warmly the sentiments
of social affection, and the obligations arising from the ties of blood. On the
appearance of an injury or affront offered to liis family or tribe, he kindles into
rage, and pursues the authors of it with the keenes'^t resentment. He con-
siders it as cowardly to expect redress from any arm but liis own, and as in-
famous to give up to another the right of detenuuiing what reparation he
should accept, or with what vengeance he should rest satisfied.

The maxims and practice of aU. uncivilized nations, with respect to the
prosecution and punishment of offenders, particularly those of the ancient
Germans, and other barbarians who invaded the Roman empire, are perfectly
conformable to these ideas.-' While they retained their native simplicity of
manners, and conttaued to be divided into small tribes or societies, the defects
in this imperfect system of criminal jurisprudence (if it merits that name)
were less sensibly felt. When they came to settle in the extensive provinces
which they had conquered, and to form themselves into great monarchies ;
when new objects of ambition presenting themselves, increased both the
number and the violence of their dissensions, they ought to have adopted
new maxims concerning the redress of injuries, and to have regulated, by
general and equal laws, that which they formerly left to be directed by the
caprice of private passion. But fierce and haughty chieftains, accustomed to
avenge themselves on such as had hijured them, did not think of relinquishing
a right which they considered as a privilege of their order, and a mark of their
independence. Laws enforced by the authority of princes and magistrates,
who possessed little power, commanded no great degree of reverence. The
administration of justice among rude illiterate people was not so accurate, or
decisive, or uniform, as to induce men to submit implicitly to its determina-
tions. Every offended baron buckled on his armour, and sought redress at
the head of his vassals. His adversary met him in like hostile array. Neitlier
of them appealed to impotent laws, which coidd afford them no protection ;
neither of them would submit points, in wliich their honour and their passions-
were warmly interested, to the sIonv determination of a judicial inquiry. Both
trusted to their swords for the decision of the contest. The kindred and de-
pendants of the aggressor, as w^ell as of the defender, were involved in the
quarrel. They had not even the liberty of remaining neutral. Such as refused
to act in concert with the party to wliich they belonged, were not only exposed
to infamy, but subjected to legal penalties.

The different kingdoms of Europe were torn and afflicted, during several
centuries, by intestine wars, excited by private animosities, and carried on
with all the rage natural to men of fierce manners and of violent passions.
The estate of every baron was a kind of independent territory, disjoined from
those around it, and the hostilities between them seldom ceased. The evil
became so inveterate and deep-rooted, that the form and laws of private war
were ascertained, and regTdations conceniing it made a part in the system of
jui-isprudence,f in the same manner as if this practice had been founded in
some natural right of humanity, or in the original constitution of civil society.

So great was the disorder, and such the calamities, which these perpetual
hostilities occasioned, that various efforts were made to wrest from the nobles

" Tacit, de Mor. German, cap. 21. Veil. Paterc. lib, ii. c. 118.

^ Beaumanoir, Coustumes de Beauvoisis, ch. 69, et les notes de Thauinassifere, p. 447

r,ECT. I.] TRIAL UY CO^IBAT. il

this peniicious privilege. It was the interest of eveiy sovereign to abolish a
practice which almost annihihited his authority. Charlemagne prohibited it
Dy an exjiress law, as an invention of the devil to destro-y the order and hap-
piiH'ss of society;-^ but the reign uf one monarch, however vigorous aiui
;ic!i\{', was too short to extirpate a custom so iirmiy estabHshed. Instead
of cutbrcmg this prohibiti9n, his feeble successors dui'st venture on nothing
more than to apply palliatives. They declai-cd it unlawful for any person to
commence war, until he had sent a formal defiance to the kindred and de-
])cudants of his adversary ; they; ordained that, after the commission of the
trespass or crime whicli gave rise to a private war, forty days must elapse
before the person injured should attack the vassals of his adversary ; they en-
joined all persons to suspend their private animosities, and to cease from hos-
tilities, when the king was engaged in any war against the enemies of the
nation. The church co-operated -svith the civil magistrate, and interposed its
authority, in order to extirpate a practice so repugnant to the spirit of Chris-
tianity. Various councils issued decrees, prohibiting all private wai'S ; and
denounced the heaviest anathemas against such as should distui'b the tran-
quillity of society, by claiming or exercising that barbarous right. _ The aid of
religion was called in to combat and subdue the ferocity of the times. The
Almighty was said to have manifested, by visions and revelations to different
persons, his disapprobation of that spirit of revenge, which armed one part of
his creatures against the other. Men were requii-ed, in the name of God, to
sheathe their swords, and to remember the sacred ties which united them as
Christians, and as members of the same society. But this junction of civil
and ecclesiastical authority, though strengthened by everything most apt to
alarm and to overawe the credulous spirit of those ages, produced no other
effect than some temporary suspensions of hostilities, and a cessation from
war on certain days and seasons consecrated to the more solemn acts of de-
votion. The nobles continued to assert this dangerous privilege ; they refused
to obey some of the laws calculated to annul or circumscribe it ; they eluded
others ; they petitioned, they remonstrated, they struggled for the right of
private war, as the highest and most honourable distinction of their order.
Even so late as the fourteenth century, we find the nobles, in several pro-
vinces of France, contending for their ancient method of terminating their
differences by the sword, in preference to that of submitting them to the de-
cision of any judge. The final abolition of this practice in that kingdom,
and the other countries in which it prevailed, is not to be ascribed so much
to the force of statutes and decrees, as to the gradual increase of the royal au-
" .ority, and to the imperceptible progress of juster sentiments concei*ning
ivemment, order^ and pubhc security. (21)

2. The prolubition of the form of trial by judicial combat, was another
nsiderable step towards the introduction of such regular government as
3ured public order and private tranquillity. As the right of private war
t manv of the quarrels among individuals to be decided, like those between
tions, by arms ; the form of trial by judicial combat, which was established
every country of Europe, banished equity from courts of justice, and ren-
dered chance or force the arbiter of their determinations. In civilized nations,
all transactions of any importance are concluded in writing. The exhibition
(rf the deed or instrument is full evidence of the fact, and ascertains with
precision what each party has stipulated to perform. But among a rude
people, when the arts of reading and AATiting were such uncommon attain-
ments, that to be master of eitlier, entitled a person to the appellation of
a clerk or learned man, scarcely anything was committed to writing but

» Capitul. A.D. 801, edit Baluz. vol. i. p. 371.

32 JUDICIAL TESTS. [sECT. I.

treaties 'between princes, tlieir grants and charters to tlieir subjects, or snch.
transactions between private parties as were of extraordinary consequence,
or had an extensive effect. The greater part of affairs in common life and
business was carried on by verbal contracts or promises. This, in many civil
questions, not only made it difficult to bring proof sufficient to establish any
claim, but encouraged falsehood and fraud, by rendering them extremely easy.
Even in criminal cases, where a particular fact must be ascertained, or an ac-
cusation must be disproved, the nature and effect of legal evidence were little
understood by barbarous nations. To define with accuracy that species of
evidence which a court had reason to expect ; to detennine when it ought to
insist on positive proof, and when it should be satisfied with a proof from
circumstances ; to compare the testimony of discordant witnesses ; and to fix
the degree of credit due to each ; were discussions too intricate and subtile
for the jurisprudence of ignorant ages. In order to avoid encumbering them-
selves with these, a more simple form of procedure was introduced into courts
as well civil as criminal. Li all cases, where the notoriety of the fact did not
furnish the clearest and most direct evidence, the person accused, or be
against whom an action was brought, was called legally, or offered voluntarily,
to purge himself by oath ; and upon his declaring liis innocence, he was in-
stantly acquitted.^" This absurd practice effectually screened guilt and fraud
from detection _ and punishment, oy rendering the temptation to perjury so
powerful, that it was not easy to resist it. The pernicious effects of it were
sensibly felt • and in order to guard against them, tne laws ordained that oaths
should be aaministered with great solemnity, and accompanied with every cir-
cumstance which could inspire religious reverence, or superstitious terror.'^
This, however, proved a feeble remedy : these ceremonious rites became fa-
miliar, and their impression on the imagination gradually diminished ; men
who could venture to disregard truth, were not apt to startle at the so-
lemnities of an oath. Their observation of this put legislators upon devising
a new expedient for rendering the purgation by oath more certain and satis-
factory. They required the person accused to appear with a certain number
of freemen, his neighbours or relations, who corroborated the oath which he
took, by swearing that they believed all that he had uttered to be trae.
These were called compurgators, and their number varied according to the
importance of the subject in dispute, or the nature of the crime with which a
person was charged.^- In some cases, the concurrence of no less than three
hundred of these auxiliaiy witnesses was requisite to acquit the person ac-
cused.^^ But even this device was found to be ineffectual. It was a point of
honour with every man in Europe, during several ages, not to desert the chief
on whom he depended, and to stand by those with whom the ties of blood
connected him. Whoever then was bold enough to violate the laws, was sure
of devoted adherents, willing to abet and eager to serve him in whatever
manner he required. The formality of calling compurgators proved an ap-
parent, not a real security against falsehood and perjury ; and the sentences
of courts, while they continued to refer every point in question to the oa-th
of the defendant, became so flagrantly iniquitous, as to excite universal in-
dignation against this method of procedure.^'*

Sensible of these defects, but strangers to the manner of correcting them,
or of introducing a more proper form, our ancestors, as an infallible method

so Leg. Burgund, tit. 8, et 45. Leg. Aleman. tit. 89. Leg. Baiwar. tit. 8, §§ 2, 6, &c.

31 Du Cange, Glossar. voc, Juramenium, vol. iii. p. 1607, edit, Benedict.

32 Du Gauge, ibid. vol. iii. p. 1599.

33 Spelman, Glossar. voc. Assath. Gregor. Turon. Hist. lib. viii. c. 9.
»♦ Leg. Langobard. lib. ii. tit. 55, § 34.

SECT. I.J THE MAKTIAL SPIRIT. 83

of discovering truth, and of suarding against deception, appealed to heaven,
and referred every point in dispute to be determined, as they imagined, by
the decisions of unerring wisdom and impartial justice. The person accused!
in order to prove his innocence, submitted to trial, in certain cases, either by
plunging his arm in boiling-water, or by lifting a red-hot iron with his naked
hand ; or by walking barefoot over burning ploughshares ; or by other experi
ments equally perilous and formidable. On other occasions, he challenged his
accuser to fi^ht him in single combat. All these various forms of triS were
conducted with many devout ceremonies ; the ministers of religion were em-
ployed, the Almighty was called upon to interpose for the manifestation of
guilt, and for the protection of innocence ; ana whoever escaped unliurt, or
came off victorious, was pronounced to be acquitted by the judgment of God. ^

Among all the whimsical and absurd institutions which owe their existence
to the weakness of human reason, this, which submitted questions that af-
fected the property, the reputation, and the lives of men, to the detennination
of chance, or of bodily strength and address, appears to be the most ex-
travagant and preposterous. There were circumstances, however, which led
the nations of Europe to consider this equivocal mode of deciding any point in
contest, as a direct appeal to heaven, and a certain method of discovering its
will. As men are unable to comprehend the manner in which the Almighty
carries on the government of the universe, by equal, fixed, and general laws,
they are apt to imagine, that in eveiy case which their passions or interest
render irapoi-tant in their own eyes, the Supreme Ruler of all ought visibly to
disx)lay his power in vindicating innocence and punishing guilt. It requires
no inconsiderable degree of science and philosophy to correct this popular
error. But the sentiments prevalent in Europe during the dark ages, in-
stead of correcting, strengthened it. Religion, K)r several centuries, consisted
chiefly in believing the legendary history of those saints whose names crowd
and disgrace the Roman calendar. The fabulous tales concerning their miracles
bad been declared authentic by the bulls of popes and the decrees of councils ;
they made the great subjects of the instructions which the clergy offered to
the people, and were received by them with implicit credulity and admira-
tion. By attending to these, men were accustomed to believe that the esta-
blished laws of nature might be violated on the most frivolous occasions, and
were taught to look rather for particular and extraordinary acts of power
under the divine administration, than to contemplate the regular progress
and execution of a general plan. One superstition prepared the way for
another; and whoever believed that the Supreme Being had interposed
miraculously on those trivial occasions mentioned in legends, could not but
expect his intervention in matters of greater importance, when solemnly re-
ferred to his decision. _

With this superstitious opinion, the martial spirit of Europe, during the
middle ages, /concurred in establishing the mode of trial by judicial combat.
To be ready to maintain with his sword whatever his lips had uttered was
the first maxim of honour with every gentleman. To assert their owti rights
by force of arms, to inflict vengeance on those who had injured or affronted
them, were the distinction and pride of high-spirited nobles. The form of
trial by combat coinciding with this maxim, flattered and gratified these

Sassions. ^ Every man was the guardian of his own honour and of liis own.
fe ; the justice of his cause, as well as his future reputation, depended on
liis own courage and prowess. Tliis mode of decision was considered, ac-
cordingly, as one of the happiest eftbrts of wise policy ; and as soon as it was
introduced, all the forms of trial, by fire or water, and other superstitious ex-

** Murat. Dissertatio de Judiciis Dei, Antiquit. Ital. vol. iii. p. 612.

24 JUDICIAL COBIBAT. [SECT. I.

periments, fell into disuse, or were employed only in controrersies between
persons of inferior rant. As it was the pri\dlege of a gentleman to claim the
trial by combat, it was quickly authorized over all Europe, and received in
every country with equal satisfaction. Not only questions concerning uncer-
tain or contested facts, but general and abstract points in law, were deter-
mined by the issue of a combat ; and the latter was deemed a method of dis-
covering truth more liberal, as well as more satisfactory, than that by in-
vestigation and argument. Not only might parties, whose minds were
exasperated by the eagerness and the hostility of opposition, defy their
antagonist, ana require him to make good his charge, or to prove his inno-
cence, with his sword ; but witnesses, who had no interest in the issue of the
question, though called to declare the truth by laws which ought to have af-
forded them protection, were equally exposed to the danger of a challenge,
and equally bound to assert the veracity of their evidence by dint of arms.
To complete the absurdities of this military jurisprudence, even the character
of a judge w^as not sacred from its violence. Any one of the parties might
interrupt a judge when about to deliver his opniion ; might accuse him of
iniquity and corruption in the most reproachful terms, and, throwing down
his gauntlet, might challenge him to defend his integrity in the field ; nor
could he, without infamy, refuse to accept the defiance, or decline to enter
the lists against such an adversary.

Thus the form of trial by combat, like other abuses, spread gradually, and
extended to all persons, and almost to all cases. Ecclesiastics, women, mi-
nors, superannuated and infirm persons, who could not with decency or
justice be compelled to take arms, or to maintain their ovm cause, were
obliged to produce champions, who offered from affection, or were engaged by
rewards, to fight their battles. The solemnities of a judicial combat were
such as were natural in an action, which was considered both as a formal
appeal to God, and as the final decision of questions of the highest moment.
Every circumstance relating to them was regulated by the edicts of princes
and explained in the comments of lawyers, with a minute and even supersti-
tious accuracy. Skill _ in these laws and rights was frequently the only
science of which warHke nobles boasted, or which they were ambitious to
attain.^

By this barbarous custom, the natural course of proceeding both in civil and
criminal questions, was entirely perverted. Force usurped the place of
equity in courts of judicature, and justice was banished from her proper man-
sion. Discennnent, learning, integrity, were qualities less necessary to a
judge than bodily strength and dexterity in the use of arms. Daiing courage,
and superior vigour or address, were of more moment towards securing
the favourable issue of a suit, than the equity of a cause, or the clearness of
the evidence. Men, of course, applied themselves to cultivate the talents
which they found to be of greatest utility. As strength of body and ad-
dress in arms were no less requisite in those lists which they were ob-
liged to enter m defence of their private rights than in the field of battle
where they met the enemies of their country, it became the great object of
education, as well as the chief emploj-ment pi life, to acquire these martial
accomplishments. The administration of justice, instead of accustoming
men to listen to the voice of equity, or to reverence the decisions of law,
added to the ferocity of their manners, and taught them to consider force as
the great arbiter of right and wron^.

These pernicious effects of the trial by combat were so obvious, that they

*« See a curious discourse concerning the laws of judicial combat, by Thomas of
Woodstock, duke of Gloucester, uncle to Richard IL, in Spelman's Glossar. toc. Camptu.

SECT. I.] EXPEDIENTS TO ABOLISH TKIAL BY COMBAT. 35

did not altogetlier escape the view of the iinobserving age in which it wjis
introduced. The clergy from tlic beginning remonstrated against it as re-
pugnant to the spirit of Christianity, and subversive of justice and order.^
But the maxims and passions which favoured it had taken such hold of the
minds of men, that they disregarded admonitions and censures, wluch, on
other occasions, woidd have struck them with terror. The evil was too great
and inveterate to yield to that reraedj^, and continuing to increase, the civil
power at length found it necessary to mterpose. Conscious, however, of their
own limited authority, monarchs proceeded with caution, and their first at-
tempts to restrain or to set any bounds to this practice were extremely feeble.
One of the earliest restrictions of tliis practice which occurs in the history of
Em-ope, is that of Henry I. of England. It extended no farther than to
prohibit the trial by combat in questions concerning property of small value.^
Loius VII. of France imitated his example, and issued an edict to the same
effect.^^ St. Louis, whose ideas as a legislator were far superior to those of
his age, endeavoured to introduce a moi'e perfect jurispruaence, and to sub-
stitute tlie trial by evidence in place of tliat by combat ; but his regulations
with respect to tliis were confined to his own domains ; for the great vassals
of the crown possessed such independent authority, and were so fondly
attached to the ancient practice, that he had not power to venture to ex-
tend it to the whole kingdom. Some barons voluntaiily adopted his regula-
tions. Tlie spirit of coui-ts of justice became averse to the mode of decision
by combat, and discouraged it on every occasion. The nobles, nevertheless,
thought it so honourable to depend for the security of their lives and fortunes
on their own courage alone, and contended with so much vehemence for the
preservation of this favourite privilege of their order, that the successors of
St. Louis, unable to oppose, and afraid of offendiug such powei-ful subjects-
were obliged not only to tolerate, but to authorize the practice which he haa
attempted to abolish." In other countries of Eui-ope efforts equally zealous
were employed to maintain the established custom, and similar concessions
were extorted from their respective sovereigns. It continued, however, to be
an obiect of policy with every monarch of abilities or vigour to explode the
trial by combat, and various edicts were issued for this purpose. But the
observation wliich was made concerning the right of private war, is equally
applicable to the mode of trial under review. INo custom, how absm-d soever
it may be, if it has subsisted long, or derived its source from the manners and
prejudices of the age in which it prevails, was ever abolished by the bare pro-
mulgation of laws and statutes. The sentiments of the people must change,
or some new power sufficient to counteract the prevalent custom must be
introduced. Such a change accordingly took place in Europe, as science
gradually increased, and society advanced towards more perfect order. In
proportion as the prerogative of princes extended and came to acquire
new force, a power interested in suppressing every practice favourable to
the independence of tlie nobles was introduced. The struggle, nevertheless,
subsisted for several centuries- sometimes the new regulations and ideas
seemed to gain ground; sometimes ancient habits recurred: and though,
upon the ^vhole, the trial by combat went more and more into disuse, yet
instances of it occur as late as the sixteenth centur}% in the history both of
France and of England. In proportion as it declined, the regular adminis-
tration of justice was restored, the proceedings of courts were directed by

'" Du Cange, Glossar. voc, Dudlunu, vol. ii. p. 1675.

** Brussel, Usage des Fiefs, vol. ii. p. 962.

" Ordon. tom. i. p. 16.

*o Ibid. pp. 328, 390, 435,

So JTimSDICTION OF THE NOBILITY. lS^CT I.

known laws, the study of these became an object of attention to jndges,
and the people of Europe advanced fast towards civility, when this great cause
of the ferocity of their manners was removed. (22)

3. By authorizing the right of appeal from the courts of the barons to
those of the king, and subjecting the decisions of the former to the review
of the latter, a new step, not less considerable than those which I have already
mentioned, was taken towards establishing the regular, consistent, and vigor-
ous administration of justice. Among all the encroachments of the feudal
nobles on the prerogative of their monarchs, their usurping the administra-
tion of justice with supreme authority, both in civil and criminal causes,
within the precincts of their own estates, was the most singular. In other
nations, subjects have contended with their sovereigns, and have endeavoured
to extend their own power and privileges; but in the history of their struggles
and pretensions, we discover nothing similar to this right which the feudal
barons claimed and obtained. It must have been something peculiar in their
genius and manners that suggested this idea, and prompted them to insist on
such as a claim. Among the rude people who conquered the various pro-
vinces of the Roman empire, and established new kingdoms there, the passion
of resentment, too impetuous to bear control, was permitted to remain almost
um-estrained by the authority of laws. The person offended, as has been ob-
served, retained not only the right of prosecuting, but of punishing his ad-
versary. To him it belonged to inflict such vengeance as satiated his rage,
or to accept of such satisfaction as appeased it. But while fierce barbarians
continued to be the sole judges in their own cause, their enmities were im-
placable and immortal ; they set no bounds either to the degree of their ven-
geance, or to the duration of their resentment. The excesses which this oc-
casioned proved so destructive of peace and order in society, as to render
it necessary to devise some remedy. At first, recourse was had to arbi-
trators, who, by persuasion or entreaty, prevailed on the party offended to
accept of a fine or composition from the aggressor, and to drop all farther
prosecution. But as submission to persons who had no legal or magisterial
authority was altogether voluntary, it became necessary to establish judges,
with pov/er sufficient to enforce their o^vn decisions. The leader, whom they
were accustomed to follow and to obey, whose courage they respected, and
m whose integrity they placed confidence, was the person to whom a martial
people naturally commited this important prerogative. Everv chieftain was
the commander of his tribe in war, and their judge in peace, Everv baron led
his vassals to the field, and administered justiceto them in his liall.^ The
high-spirited dependants would not have recognized any other authority, or
have submitted to any other jurisdiction. But in times of turbulence and vio-
lence, the exercise of this new function was attended not only with trouble,
but with danger, !No person could assume the character of a judge, if he
did not possess power sufficient to protect the one party from the violence of
private revenge, and to compel the other to accept of such reparation as he
enjoined. In consideration of the extraordinary efforts which this office
required, judges, besides the fine which they appointed to be paid as com-
pensation to the person or family who had been injured, levied an additional
sum as a recompense for their ovm labour ; and in all the feudal kingdoms
the latter was not only as precisely ascertained, but as regularly exacted as
the former.

Thus, by the natural operation of circumstances peculiar to the manners
or political state of the feudal nations, separate and territorial jurisdic-
tions came not only to be established in every kingdom, but were established
in such a way, that the interest of the barons concurred with their ambition
in maintaining and extending them. It was not merely a point of honour

SECT. I.] ATTEMPT TO LIMIT IT. 37

with the feudal nobles to dispense justice to their vassals; but from the
exercise of that power arose one capital branch of their revenue ; and the
emoluments of tlieir courts were frequently the main sup]wrt of their di{?nity.
It was with infinite zeal that they asserted and defencfed this high privilege
of their order. By this institution, h9\yever, every kingdom in Europe was
split into as many separate principalities as it contained powerful barons.
Their vassals, whether in peace or in war, were hardly sensible of any au-
thority but that of their immediate superior lord. They felt themselves
subject to no other command. They were amenable to no other jurisdiction.
The ties which linked together these smaller confederacies became close and
firm ; the bonds of public union relaxed, or were dissolved. The nobles
strained their invention in devising regulations which tended to ascertain and
perpetuate this distinction. In order to guard against any appearance of
subordination in their courts to those of the crown, they frequently eon-
strained their monarchs to prohibit the royal judges from entering their
territories, or from claiming any jurisdiction there ; and if, either through
mistake, or from th-e spirit of encroachment, any royal judge ventured to
extend his authority to the vassals of a baron, they might plead their right
of exem]ption, and the lord of whom they held could not only rescue therp.
out of his hands, but was entitled to le^al reparation for the injury ar.i
afiront offered to him. The jurisdiction o^ the royal judges scarcely reached
beyond the narrow limits of the king's demesnes. Instead of a regular
gradation of courts, all acknowledging the authority of the same general
laws, and looking up to these as the guides of their decisions, there were in
every feudal kingdom a number of independent tribunals, the proceedin.^s of
which were directed by local customs and contradictory forms. The collision
of jurisdiction among these different coui'ts often retarded the execution of
justice : the variety and caprice of their modes of procedure must have for
ever kept the administration of it from attaining any degree of uniformity or
perfection.

All the monarchs of Europe perceived these encroachments on their juris-
diction, and bore them with impatience. But the usurpations of the nobles
were so firmly established, and the danger of endeavouring to overturn them
by open force was so manifest, that kin^s were obliged to remain satisfied
with attempts to undermine them. Various expedients were employed for
this purpose, each of which merits attention, as they mark the progress of
law and equity in the several kingdoms of Europe. At first, princes endea-
voured to circumscribe the jurisdiction of the barons, by contending that they
ought to take cognizance only of smaller oifences ; resemng those of greater
moment, under the appellation of pleas of the croicn, and royal causes, to be
tried in the king's courts. This, however, affected only the barons of inferior
note ; the more powerful nobles scorned such a distinction, and not only
claimed unlimited jmisdiction, but obliged their sovereigns to grant them
charters, conveying or recognizing this privilege in the most ample form. The
attempt, nevertheless, was productive of some good consequences, and paved
the way for more. It turned the attention of men towards a juidsdiction
distinct from that of the baron whose vassals they were ; it accustomed them
to the pretensions of superiority which the crown claimed over territorial
judges ; and taught them, when oppressed by their own superior lord, to
look up to their sovereign as their protector. This facilitated the introduc-
tion oi appeals, by which princes brought the decisions of the barons' courts
under the review of the royal judges. While trial by combat subsisted in
f uU vigom-, no point decided accor(iing to that mode could be brought under
the review of another court. It hadoeen referred to the judgment of God ;
the issue of battle had declared his will ; and it would have been impious

38 ECCLESIASTICAL COURTS. [SECT. I.

to have called in question the equity of the divine decision. But as soon as
that barbarous custom began to fall into disuse, princes encouraged the
vassals of the barons to sue for redress, by appealing to the royal courts.
The progress of this practice, however, was slow and gradual. The first in-
stances of appeals were on account of tlie delay or the refusal of justice in the
barons' court ; and as these were countenanced by the ideas of subordination
in the feudal constitution, the nobles allowed them to be introduced without
much opposition. But when these were followed by appeals on account of
the injustice or iniquity of the sentence, the nobles then began to be sensible,
that, if this innovation became general, the shadow of power alone would
remain in their hands, and all real a,uthority and jurisdiction would centre in
those courts which possessed the right of review. They instantly took the
alarm, remonstratea against the encroachment, and contended boldly for
their ancient privileges. But the monarchs ia the different kingdoms of
Europe pursued their i)lan with steadiness and prudence. Though forced
to suspend their operations on some occasions, and seemingly to yield when
any formidable confederacy of their vassals united against them, they resumed
their measures as soon as they observed the nobles to be remiss or feeble, and
pushed them with vigour. They appointed the royal courts, which originally
were ambulatory, and irregular with respect to their tunes of meetiag, to be
held in a fixed place and at stated seasons. They were solicitous to name
judges of more distmguished abilities than such as usually presided in the
courts of the barons. They added dignity to their character, and splendour
to their assembhes. They laboured to render their forms regular and their
decrees consistent. Such judicatories became, of course, the objects of pubHc
confidence as well as veneration. The people relinquishing the tribunals of
their lords, were eager to biing every suDJect of contest under the more equal
and discemmg eye of those whom their sovereign had chosen to give judg-
ment in his name. Thus kings became once more the heads of the com-
munity, and the dispensers of justice to their subjects._ The barons, in
some kingdoms, ceased to exercise their right of jurisdiction, because it
sunk into contempt ; in others, it was circumscribea by such regulations as
rendered it innocent, or it was entirely abohshed by express statutes. Thus
the administration of justice, taking its rise from one source, and following
one direction, held its course in every state with more uniformity, and with
greater force. (23)

YI. The forms and maxims of the canon law, which were become univer-
sally respectable, from their authority in the spiritual courts, contributed not
a little towards those improvements in jurisprudence which I have enu-
merated. If we consider the canon law pohtically, and view it either as a
system framed on purpose to assist the clergy in usurping powers and juris-
diction no less repugnant to the nature of their function, than inconsistent
rith the order of government ; or as the chief instrument in estabhshin^ the
dominion of the popes, which shook the throne, and endangered the liber-
ties of every kingdom in Europe^ we must pronounce it one of the most for-
midable engines ever fonned against the happiness of civil society. But if we
contemplate it merely as a code of laws respecting the rights and property of
individuals, and attend only to the civil effects of its decisions concerning
these, it will appear in a difterent, and a much more favourable light. In ages
of ignorance and credulity, the ministers of religion are the objects of super-
stitious veneration. When the barbarians who overran the Roman empire
first embraced the Christian faith, they found the clergy in possession of
considerable power ; and they naturally transferred to those new guides the
profound submission and reverence which they were accustomed to yield to
the priests of that rehgion which they had forsaken. They deemed their

SECT. I.] TJIETR CONSTITUTION. 29

persons to be equallv sacred with their function ; and would have considered

it as impious to subject them to the profane ;iurisdiction of the laity. The

clergv were not blind to these advantages which the weakness of mankind

I Horded them. They established coui-ts, m which every question rclatiii^ to

iieir own character, their function, or their property, was tried. Thev

I' ••'led and obtained an ahnost total exemption from the authority of civil

>. Upon difi'ereut pretexts, and by a multiplicity of ai-tiflces^ they com-

1 rated this privilege to so many persons, and extended their jurisdiction

lo such a variety of cases, that the greater part of those afi'airs which give

rise to contest and litigation, was drawn under tiie cognizance of the spiritual

courts.

But, in order to dispose the laity to suffer these usurpations without murmur
or opposition, it was necessary to convince them that the administrati9n of
justice woidd be rendered more perfect by the establishment of this new juris-
diction. This was not a difhcult undertaking at that period, when ecclesiast;ics
can-ied on their encroachments with the greatest success. That scanty portion
of science which served to guide men in the ages of darkness, was almost en-
tirely engrossed by the clergy. They alone were accustomed to read, to in-
quire, and to reason. Whatever knowledge of ancient jurisprudence had been
preserved, either by tradition, or in such books as had escaped the destructive
rage of barbarians, was possessed by them. Upon the maxuns of that excel-
lent system, they founded a code of laws consonant to the great principles of
equity. Being directed by fixed and known rules, the foims of their courts
were ascertained, and then- decisions became uniform and consistent. Nor
did they want authority sufficient to enforce their sentences. Excommuni-
cation and other ecclesiastical censures were punishments more formidable
than any that civil judges could inflict in support of their decrees.

It is not surprising, then, that ecclesiastical jurisprudence should become
such an object of adrau-ation and respect, that exemption from civil juris-
diction was courted as a privilege, and conferred as a reward. It is not sur-
prising that, even to a rude people, the maxims of the canon law should
appeal- more equal and just than those of the ill-digested jurispnidence which
directed all proceedings in civd courts. Accorduig to the latter, the differ
ences between contending barons were terminated, as in a state of nature,
by the sword ; according to the former, every matter was subjected to the de-
cision of laws. The one, by permitting judicial combats, left chance and force
to be arbiters of right or wrong, of truth or falsehood; the other passed
ludgment with respect to these by the maxims of equity, and the testimony
<^f witnesses. ^ Any error or iniquity in a sentence pronounced by a baron to
whom feudal jurisdiction belonged, was irremediable, because originally it was
subject to the review of no superior tribunal; the ecclesiastical law esta-
blished a regular gradation of courts, through all of which a cause might be
carried by appeal, until it was determined by that authority which was held
to be supreme in the church. Thus the genius and principles of the canon
law prepared men for approving those thi-ee great alterations in the feudal
.iurisprudcnce which I have mentioned. But it was not with respect to these

I lints alone that the canon law suggested improvements beneficial to society,
any of the regulations, now deemed the barriers of personal security, or the
feguards of private property, are contrary to the spirit, and repuguant to
e maxims, oT the civil jurisprudence known in Eui'ope during several
nturies, and were borrowed from tlie rules and practice of the ecclesiastical
lurts. By observing the wisdom and equity of the decisions in these courts,
en began to perceive the necessity either of deserting the martial tribunals
^ of the barons, or of attempting to reform them. (21)

YII. The revival of the knowledge and study ot the Eomau l&\\ co-operated

30 DISCOVERY OF THE CODE OF JUSTINIAX. [SECT. I.

with tile causes which I have mentioned, in introducing more just and liberal
ideas concerning the nature of government, and the administration of justice.
Among the calamities which the devastations of the barbarians who broke in
upon the empire brought upon mankind, one of the greatest was their over-
turning the system of Roman jurisprudence, the noblest monument of the
wisdom of that great people, formed to subdue and to govern the world. The
laws and regulations of a civilized community were repugnant to the maimers
and ideas of these fierce invaders. They had respect to objects of which a
rude people had no conception ; and were adapted to a state of society with
which they were entirely unacciuainted. Eor this reason, wherever they
settled, the Roman jurisprudence soon smik into oblivion, and lav buried fo?
some centmies under the load of those institutions which the inhabitants of
Eui-ope dignified with the name of laws. But towards the middJe of the
twelfth centuiy, a co^)y of Justinian's Pandects was accidentally discovered
in Italy. By that time, the state of society was so far advanced, and the
ideas of men so much enlarged and improved by the occurrences of several
centuries, dui'ing which vhey had continued in political union, that they were
struck with admiration of a system which their ancestors could not compre-
hend. Though they had not hitherto attained such a degree of refinement as
to acquire from the ancients a relish for true philosophy or speculative science ;
though they were still insensible, in a great degree, to the beauty and elegance
of classical composition ; they were sufiiciently qualified to judge with re-
spect to the merit of their system of laws, in which all the points most
interesting to mankind were settled with discermnent, precision, and equity.
All men of letters studied this new science with eagerness; and within a few
years after the discovery of the Pandects, professors of civil law were ap-
pointed, who taught it publicly in most countries of Europe.

The effects of having such an excellent model to study and to imitate were
immediatelv perceived. Men, as soon as they were acquainted -with fixed
and general laws, perceived the advantage of them, and became impatient to
ascertain the principles and forms by which judges should regulate their
decisions. Such was the ardour with which they carried on an undertaking
of so great importance to society, that, before the close of the twelfth cen-
tury, the feudal law was reduced into a regular system ; the code of canon
law was enlarged and methodized ; and the loose uncertain customs of dif-
ferent provinces or kingdoms were collected and arranged with an order and
accuracy acquii-ed from the knowledge of Roman jurisprudence. In some
countries of Europe the Roman law was adopted as subsidiarv to their own
municipal law ; and all cases to which the latter did not extend were decided
according to the principles of the former. In others, the maxims as well as
'orms of Roman jurisprudence, mingled impercei)tibly -with the laws of the
country, and had a powerful, though less sensible influence in improving and
perfecting them, (25)

These various improvements in the system of jurisprudence, and adminis-
tration of justice, occasioned a change in manners, of great importance and
of extensive efiect. They gave rise to a distinction of professions; they
obliged men to cultivate diiFerent talents, and to aim at different accomplish-
ments, in order to quality themselves for the various departments and func-
tions which became necessary in society.*^ Among uncivilized nations, there
IS but one profession honourable, that of arms. All the ingenuity and ^^gour
of the human mind are exerted in acquirin;^ militaiy skill or address. The
iunctions of peace are few and simple, and require no particular course of
education or of study as a preparation for dischargiag them. This was the

*^ Dr. Fei-gusson's Essay on the History of Civil Society, part 'v. sect. i.

8EC1\ I.] INSTITUTION OP CHIVALRY. SI

state of Europe dui-inj? several oenturies. Every gentleman, bom a soldier,
scorned any other occupation; he was taught no science but that of war:
even his exercises and pastimes were feats of martial prowess. Nor did
the judicial character, which persons of noble birth were alone entitled to
assume, demand any degree of knowledge beyond that wliich such untutored
soldiers possessed. To recollect a few traditionary customs which time had
confirmea, and rendered respectable • to mark out the lists of battle with due
formality ; to observe the issue of the combat ; and to pronounce whether it
had been conducted according to the laws of arms, included everytliing that
a baron, who acted as a jud^e, found it necessary to understand.

But when the forms of legal proceedings were fixed, when the rules of
decision were committed to writing, and collected into a body, law became a
science, the knowledge of which required a regular course of study, together
with long attention to the practice of courts. Martial and illiterate nobles
had neither leisure nor inclination to undertake a task so laborious, as well
as so foreign from all the occupations which they deemed entertaining, or
suitable to their rank. They gradually relinquished their places in courts of
justice, where their ignorance exposed them to contempt. They became
weary of attending to the discussion of cases, which grew too intricate for
them to comprehend. Not only the judicial determination of points which
were the subject of controversy, but the conduct of all legal business and
t ransactions, was committed to persons trained by previous study and appli-
cation to the knowledge of law. An order of men, to whom their fellow-
citizens had daily recourse for advice, and to whom they looked up for de-
cision in their most important concerns, naturally acquired consideration and
influence in society. They were advanced to honours which had been con-
sidered hitherto as the peculiar rewards of military virtue. They were in-
trusted with offices of the highest dignity and most extensive power. Thus,
another profession than that of arms came to be introduced among the laity,
and was reputed honourable. The functions of civil life were attended to.
The talents requisite for discharging them were cultivated. A new road was
opened to wealth and eminence. The arts and virtues of peace were placed
in their proper rank, and received* their due recompense. (26)

VIII. ^Vnile improvements, .so important with respect to the state of so-
cietjr and the administration of justice, ,^auually made progress in Europe,
sentiments more liberal and generous nad begun to animate the nobles.
These were inspired by the spii'it of chivalry, wluch, though considered, com-
monly, as a -wold institution, the effect of caprice, and the source of extra-
vagance, arose naturally from the state of society at that period, and had a
veiy serious influence in refining the manners of the European nations. The
feudal state was a state of almost perpetual war, rapine, and anarchy, during
which the weak and unarmed were exposed to insults or injuries. The power
of the sovereign was too limited to prevent these wrongs ; and the adminis-
tration of justice too feeble to redress them. The most effectual protection
agamst violence and oppression was often found to be that which the valour
and generosity of private persons aftbrded. The same spirit of enterprise
Vthicli had prompted so many gentlemen to take anns in defence of the op-
pressed pilgrims m Palestine, mcited others to declare themselves the patrons
and avengers of injured iimocence at home. When the final reduction of the
Holy Land under the dominion of infidels put an end to these foreign expe-
ditions, the latter was the only employment left for the activity and courage
(n adventurers. To check the insolence of overgroAvii oppressors; to rescue
lie help;less from captivity; to protect or to avenge women, orphans, and
iicclesiastiiis, who could not bear arms in their own defence; to redress
vvrongs, and to remove grievances, were deemed acts of the highest pro\sess

3g INSTITUTION OF CHIVALRY. |SECT. I.

and merit. Valour, humanity, courtesy, justice, honour, were the character-
istic qualities of chivalry. To these was added religion, which mingled itself
with every passion and institution during the middle ages, and, by nifusing a
large proportion of enthusiastic zeal,^ gave them such force as carried them
to romantic excess. Men were trained to knighthood by a long previous
discipline ; they were admitted into the order by solemnities no less de-
vout than pompous ; every person of noble birth courted that honour ; it was
deemed a distinction superior to royalty ; and monarchs were proud to receive
it from the hands of private gentlemen.

This singular institution, in which valour, gallantry, and religion, were so
strangely blended, was wonderfully adapted to the taste and genius of martial
nobles ; and its effects were soon visible in their manners. War was carried
on with less ferocity, when humanity came to be deemed the ornament of
knighthood no less than courage. More gentle and polished manners were
iiitroduced, when courtesy was recommended as the most amiable of knightly
virtues. Violence and oppression decreased, when it was reckoned meritorious
to check and to punish them. A scrupulous adherence to truth, with the
most religious attention to fulfil every engagement, became the distinguish-
ing characteristic of a gentleman, because chivalry was regarded as the school
of honour, and inculcated the most delicate sensibdity with respect to those
points. The admiration of these qualities, together with the high distinctions
and prerogatives conferred on knighthood in every part of Em-ope, inspired
persons of noble birth on some occasions with a species of military fana-
ticism, and led them to extravagant enterprises. But they deeply imprinted
on their minds the principles of generosity and honour. These were
strengthened by everything that can affect the senses or touch the heart.
The wild exploits of those romantic knights who sallied forth in quest of
adventures are well known, and have been treated with proper ridicule.
The political and permanent effects of the spiiit of chivaby have been less
observed. Perliaps the humanity which accompanies all the operations of
war, the refinements of gallantry, and the point of honour, ""^he three chief
circumstances which distinguish modem from ancient manners, may be
ascribed in a great measm'e to this institution, which has appeared whimsical
to superficial observers, but by its effects has proved of great benefit to
mankind. The sentiments which chivalry inspired, had a wonderful influence
on manners and conduct during the twelfth, thirteenth, foui-teenth, and
ifteenth centuries. They were so deeply rooted, that tliey continued to
operate after the vigour and reputation of the institution itself began to
decline. Some considerable transactions recorded in the following history
resemble the adventurous exploits of chivalry, rather than the well-regu-
lated operations of sound poHcy. Some of the most eminent persoiiag-es,
whose characters will be delineated, were strongly tinctui'ed with this ro-
mantic spirit. Francis I. was ambitious to distinguish himself by all the
qualities of an accomplished knight, and endeavoured to imitate the enter-
prising genius of chivalry in war, as weU as its pomp and courtesy during
peace. The fame which the French monarch acquired by these splendid
actions, so far dazzled his more temperate rival, that he departed on some
<)Gcasions from his usual prudence and moderation, and emulated Francis in
deeds of prowess or of gallantry. (27)

IX. The progress of science, and the cultivation of literature, had con-
siderable effect in changing the maimers of the European nations, and intro-
ducing that civility and refinement by wliich they are now distinguished. At
the time when their empire was overturned, the Romans, though they had
lost that correct taste which has rendered the productions of their ancestors
standards of excellence, and models of imitation for succeeding ages, still

SECT. I.] SCHOLASTIC THEOLOGY. 38

preserved their love of letters, and cultivated the arts with great ardour.
But rude barbarians were so far from being stmck with any admiration of
these unknown accomplishments, that they despised them. They were not
arrived at that state of society, when those faculties of the human mind
which have beauty and elegance for their objects begin to unfold themselves.
They were strangers to most of those wants and desires which are the parents
of ingenious invention; and as they did not comprehend either the merit
or utility of the Koman arts, they destroyed the monuments of them, with an
industry not inferior to that with which their posterity have since studied
to preserve or to recover them. The convulsions occasioned by the settle-
ment of so many unpolished tribes in the empire ; the frequent as well as
violent revolutions in every kingdom which they established ; together with
the interior defects in the form of government which they introduced,
banished security and leisure, prevented the growth of taste, or the culture of
science, and kept Europe, during several centuries, in that state of igno-
rance wliich has been already described. But the events and institutions
which I have enumerated produced great alterations in society. As soon as
their operation, in restoring liberty and independence to one part of the com-
munity, began to be felt ; as soon as they began to communicate to all the
members of society some taste of the advantages arising from commerce,
from public order, and from personal security, the human mind became
conscious of powers which it did not foraierly perceive, and fond of occu-
pations or pursuits of which it was formerly incapable. Towards the be-
ginning of tne twelfth century, we discern the first symptoms of its awaken-
ing from that lethargy in which it had been long sunk, and observe it tumiag
with curiosity and attention towards new objects.

The first literary efforts, however, of the European nations in the middle
ages were extremely ill-directed. Among nations, as well as individuals,
the powers of imagination attain some degree of vigour before the intellectual
faculties are much exercised in speculative or abstract disquisition. Men
are poets before they are philosophers • they feel with sensibility, and de-
scribe with force, when they have made but little progress in investigation or
reasoning. The age of Homer and of Hesiod long preceded that of Thales or
of Socrates. But, unliappUy for literature, our ancestors, deviating from this
course which nature points out, plunged at once into the depths of abstruse
and metaphvsical inquiry. They had been converted to the Christian faith
soon after tliey settled iu their new conquests. But they did not receive it

Sure: the presumption of men had acfded to the shnple and instructive
octrines oi Christianity the theories of a vain phUosopny, that attempted
to penetrate into mysteries, and to decide questions which the limited facul-
ties of the human mind are unable to comprehend or to resolve. These over-
curious speculations were incorporated with the system of religion, and came
to be considered as the most essential part of it. As soon, then, as curiosity
prompted men to inquire and to reason, these were the subjects which first
presented themselves, and encraged their attention. The scholastic theology,
with its infinite train of bold disquisitions, and subtile distinctions concerning
points which are not the object of human reason, was the first production of
the spirit of inquiry, after it began to resume some degree of activity and
vigoui- in Europe. It was not, however, this circumstance alone that gave
such a wrong turn to the minds of men, when they began again to exercise
talents which they had so long neglected. Most of the persons who at-
tempted to revive literature in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, had re-
ceived instruction, or derived their principles of science from the Greeks in
the eastern empire, or from the Arabians in Spain and Africa. Both these
people, acute and inquisitive to excess, had corrupted those sciences wliich

3A C03IMERCIAL INTERCOUESE fSECT. I.

they cultivated. The former rendered theology a system of speculative
refinement, or of endless controversy; the latter communicated to pliilo-
sophy a spirit of metaphysical and frivolous subtlety. J^Iisled by these
^ides, the persons who first applied to science were mvolved in a maze of
intricate inquiiies. Instead of allowing their fancy to take its natural range,
and to produce such works of invention as might have improved their taste
and refined then- sentiments ; instead of cultivatmg those arts which embellish
human life, and render it comfortable ; they were fettered by authority, they
were led astray by example, and wasted the whole force of their genius
in speculations as unavailing as they were diflGicult.

But. fruitless and ill-directed as these speculations were, their novelty-
roused, and their boldness interested, the human miiid._ The ardour with
which men pursued these uninvitiag studies was astonishiag. Genuine philo-
sophy was never cultivated, in any enlightened age, with more zeal. Schools,
upon the model of those instituted by Charlemagne, were opened in every
cathedral, and almost in every monastery of note. CoUeges and universities
were erected and formed into communities or corporations, governed by their
own laws, and invested with separate and extensive jurisdiction over their
own members. A regular coui'se of studies was planned : privileges of great
value were conferred on masters and scholars ; academical titles and honours
of various kinds were invented as a recompense for both. Nor was it m the
schools alone that superiority in science led to reputation and authority ; it
became an object of respect in life, and advanced such as acquired it to a rank
of no inconsiderable eminence. Allured by all these advantages, an incredible
number of students resorted to those new seats of learning, and crowded
with eagerness into that new path which was open to fame and distinction.

But how considerable soever these first elforts may appear, there was one
circumstance which prevented the eliects of them from being as extensive
as they_ naturally ought to have been. All the languages in Europe, during-
the period under review, were barbarous ; they were destitute of elegance^
of force, and even of perspicuity. No attempt had been hitherto made to im-
prove or to pohsh them. The Latin tongue was consecrated by the church
to religion ; custom, with authority scarcely less sacred, had appropriated
it to literature. All the sciences cultivatea in the twelfth and thirteenth
centuries were taught in Latin ; all books with respect to them were -written
in that language. It would have been deemed a degradation of any importaut
subject to have treated of it in a modem language. This confined science
within a very narrow circle ; the learned alone were admitted into the temple
of knowledge ; the gate was shut against all others, who were suffered to
remain involved in their former dai-kness and ignorance.

But though science was thus prevented, during several ages, from diffusing
itself through society, and its influence was much circumscribed ; the pro-
gress which it made may be mentioned, nevertheless, among the great causes
which contributed to introduce a change of manners into Eui-ope. The
ardent though ill-judged spirit of inquiry which I have described, occasioned
a fermentation of mind that put ingenuity and invention in motion, and gave
them -vigour. It led men to a new employment of their faculties, which they
found to be agreeable as well as interestiag. It accustomed them to exercises
and occupations which tended to soften their maimers, and to give them
some relish for the gentle vu-tues. peculiar to people among whom science has
been cultivated with success. (2S)

X. The progress of commerce had considerable influence in polishing the
manners of the European nations, and in establishing among them order,
equal laws, and humanity. The wants of men, in the original and most simple
state of society, are so few, and their desii-es so limited, that they rest con-

SECT. I.] BETWEEN THE NATIONS OF EUROPE. S(

tented with the natural productions of their climate and soil, or with what
they can add to these by their own rude industry. Thev have^ no superfluities
to oispose of, and few necessities that demand a supply. Every httle com-
munity subsisting on its own domestic stock, and satisfied with it, is either
little acquainted with the states around it, or at vai-ianee with them. So-
ciety and manners must be considerably improved, and many provisions must
be made for public order and personal security, before a liberal intercourse
can take place between different nations. We und, accordingly, that the first
effect of the settlement of the barbarians in the empire, was to divide those
nations which the < Roman power had united. Europe was broken into many
separate communities. The intercourse between these divided states ceased
almost entirely during several centuries. Navigation was dangerous in seas
infested by pirates ; nor could strangers trust to a friendly reception in the
ports of uncivilized nations. Even between distant parts of the same king-
dom, the communication was rare and difficult. The lawless rapine of ban-
ditti, together with the avowed exactions of the nobles, scarcely less for-
midable and oppressive, rendered a joui-ney of any length a perilous enterprise.
Fixed to the spot in which they resided, the greater part of the inhabitants
of Europe lost, in a great measure, the knowledge of remote regions, and
were nnacquamted with their names, their situations, their climates, and their
commodities. (29)

Various causes, however, contributed to revive the spirit of commerce, and
to renew, in some degree, the intercourse between different nations. The
Italians, by their connexion wdth Constantinople, and other cities of the
Greek empire, had preserved in their own country considerable relish for the
precious commodities and euiious manufactures of the East. They communi-
cated some knowledge of these to the countries contiguous to Italy. But
this commerce being extremely limited, the intercourse which it occasioned
between different nations was not considerable. The crusades, by leading
multitudes from every comer of Eui'ope into Asia, opened a more extensive
communication between the East and West, which subsisted for two cen-
turies; and though the object of these expeditions was conquest and not
commerce; thougli the issue of them proved as unfortunate as the motives
for undertaking tliem were wild and enthusiastic, then- commercial effects, as
hath been shown, were both beneficial and permanent. During the continu-
ance of the crusades, the great cities in Italy, and in other countries of
Europe, acquired liberty, and together wdth it such privileges as rendered
them respectable and independent communities. Thus in every state there
was formed a new order of citizens, to whom commerce presented itself as
their proper object, and opened to them a certain path to wealth and con-
sideration. Soon after the close of the holy war, the mariner's compass was
invented, which, by rendering navigation more secure, encouraged it to become
more adventurous, facihtated the communication between remote nations, and
brought them nearer to each other.

The Italian states, during the same period, established a regular commerce
with the East in the ports of Egypt, and di-ew from thence all the rich
products of the Indies. They introduced into their own temtories manu-
factures of various kinds, and carried them on with great ingenuity and
vigour. They attempted new arts ; and transplanted from warmer climates,
to which they had been hitherto deemed peculiar, several natural productions
which now furnish the materials of a lucrative and extended commerce. All
these commodities, whether imported from Asia, or produced by their own
skill, they disposed of to great advantage among the other people of Europe,
who began to acquire some taste for an elegance in living \mknown to their
ancestors, or despised by them. During the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,

d2

36 THE HANSEATIC LEAGUE. fSECT. t,

the commerce of Europe Tvas abnost entirely in the hands of the Italians,
more commonly known in those ages by the name of Lombards. Companies
or societies of Lombard merchants settled in every different kingdom. They
were taken under the immediate protection of the several govenunents. They
enjoyed extensive privileges and immunities. The operation of the ancient
barbarous laws concerning strangers, was suspended with respect to them.
They became the carriers, the manufacturers, and the bankers of all Europe.

While the Itabans, in the south of Europe, were cultivating trade with
such industry and success, the commercial spirit awakened in the north
towards the middle of the thirteenth centuiy. As the nations around the
Baltic were, at that time, extremely barbarous, and infested that sea with
their piracies, the cities of Lubec and Hamburgh, soon after they began to
open some trade with these people, found it necessary to enter into a lea^e
01 mutual defence. They derived such advantages from this union, that other
towns acceded to their confederacy, and, in a shoi-t time, eighty of the most
considerable cities scattered through those extensive countries which stretch
from the bottom of the Baltic to Cologne on the Rhine, joined in the famous
Hanseatic league, which became so formidable, that its alHance was courted
and its enmity was dreaded by the greatest monarchs. The members of this
powerful association formed the first systematic plan of commerce known in
the middle ages, and conducted it by common laws enacted in their general
assemblies. They supplied the rest of Europe with naval stores, and pitched
on diiferent towns, the most eminent of which was at Bruges in Elanders.
where they estabHshed staples in which their commerce was regularly carriea
on. Thither the Lombaras brought the productions of India, together with
the manufactures of Italy, and exchanged them for the more bulky but not
less useful commodities of the north. The Hanseatic merchants disposed of
the cargoes which they received from the Lombards, in the ports of the Baltic,
or carried them up the great rivers into the interior parts of Germany.

This regular intercourse opened between the nations in the north and south
of Europe, made them sensible of their mutual wants, and created such new
and increasing demands for commodities of every kind, that it excited among
the inhabitants of the Netherlands a more vigorous spirit in carrj-ing on the
two great manufactures of wool and flax, which seem to have been consider-
able in that country as early as the age of Charlemagne. As Bruges became
the centre of communication between the Lombard and Hanseatic merchants,
the Flemings traded with both in that cit;^ to such extent as well as advantage,
as spread among them a general habit of industry, which long rendered Elan-
ders and the adjacent provinces the most opulent, the most populous, and
best cultivated countries in Europe.

Struck with the flourishing state of these provinces, of which he discerned
the true cause, Edward III. of England endeavoured to excite a spirit of in-
dustry among his OAvn subjects, who, blind to the advantages of their situa-
tion, and ignorant of the source from which opulence was destined to flow
into their countrj^ were so little attentive to their commercial interests, as
hardly to attempt those manufactures, the materials of which they furnished
to foreigners. Bv alluring Flemish artisans to settle in his dominions, as well
as by many wise laws for the encouragement and regulation of trade, Edward
gave a be'gitming to the woollen manufactures of England, and first tui-ned
the active and enterprising genius of his people towards those arts which
have raised the English to the highest rank among commercial nations. ^

This increase of commerce, and of iatercourse between nations, how incon-
siderable soever it may appear in respect of their rapid and extensive pro-
gress during the last and present a^e, seems wonderfully great, when we
compare it with the state ot both in Europe previous to the twelfth century.

SECT. II.] SOCIETY IN THE PIPTEENTH CENTURY. 57

It did not fail of producing great effects. Commerce tends to wear off those
prejudices which maintain distinction and animosity between nations. It
softens and polishes the manners of men. It unites them by one of the
strongest of all ties, the desire of supplying their mutual wants. It dispose*
them to peace, by establishing in every state an order of citizens bound by
their interest to oe the guardians of public tranquillity. As soon as the
commercial spirit acquires vigour, and begins to gain an ascendant in any
society, we discover a new genius in its policy, its alliances, its wars, and
its negotiations. Conspicuous proofs of this occur in the history of the
Italian states, of the Hanseatic league, and the cities of the Netherlands
during the period under review. In proportion as commerce made its way
into the different countries of Europe, they successively turned their a,tten-
tion to those objects, and adopted those manners which occupy and distin-
guish polished nations. (30)

SECTION n.

TDEW OF THE PROGRESS OP SOCIETY IN EUROPE WITH RESPECT TO THE COM-
MAND OF THE NATIONAL FORCE REQUISITE IN FOREIGN OPERATIONS.

Improved State of Society at the Beginning of the Fifteenth Century — The Concentration,
of Resources in European States — The Power of Monarchs ; their Revenues and Armies
— Affairs of different States at first entirely Distinct — Progress of Combination — Loss
of Continental Territory by the English — Effects upon the French Monarchy — Growth
of Standing Armies, and of the Royal Prerogative under Louis XL — His Example
imitated in England and in Spain — The Heiress of Burgundy — Perfidious Conduct of
Louis XL towards her — Her Marriage with Maxunilian, Archduke of Austria — In-
vasion of Italy by Charles VIIL — The Balance of Power — Use of Infantry in Armies —
League of Cambray agamst Venice.

Such are the events and institutions which, by their powerful operation, con-
tributed gradually to introduce regular government and polished manners in
the various nations of Europe. When we survey the state of society, or the
character of individuals, at the opening of the fifteenth century, and then
turn back to view the condition of both at the time when the barbarous
tribes, wliich overturned the Roman power, completed their settlement in
their new conquests, the progress which mankind had made towards order
and refinement will appear immense.

Government, however, was still far from having attained that st'^te, in
wliicli extensive monarchies act with the united vigour of the whole com-
munity, or caiTy on great undertakings with perseverance and success.
Small tribes or communities even in their rudest state, may operate in con-
cert, and exert their utmost force. They are excited to act, not oy the distant
objects or the refined speculations which interest or affect men in polished
societies, but by their- present feelings. The insults of an enemy knidle re-
sentment ; the success of a rival tribe awakens emulation : these passions
communicate from breast to breast, and aU. the members of the commumty,
with united ardour, rush into the field in order to gratify their revenge, or
to acquire distinction. But in widely-extended states, such as the great
kingdoms of Europe at the beginning of the fifteenth century, where there is
little intercourse between the distant members of the community, and where

S5 EESOURCES OF EUROPEAN STATES : [sECT. If.

every great enterprise requires previous concert and long preparation, nothing
can rouse and call forth their united strength, but the absolute command of a
despot, or the powerful influence of regular policy. Of the former, the vast
empires in the East are an example ; the irresistible mandate of the sovereign
reaches the most remote provinces of his dominions, and compels whatever
number of his subjects he is pleased to summon to follow his standard. The
kingdoms of Europe, in the present age, are an instance of the latter; the
prince, by the less violent but no less effectual operation of laws and a well-
regulated government, is enabled to avail himself of the whole force of his
state, and to employ it in enterprises which require strenuous and persevering
efforts.

But, at the opening of the fifteenth century, the political constitution in
all the kingdoms of Europe was very different from either of these states
of government. The several monarchs, though they had somewhat enlarg;ed
the boundaries of prerogative by successful encroachments on the immunities
and privileges of the nobility, were possessed of an authority extremely
limited. The laws and interior police of kingdoms, though much improved by
the various events and regulations which I have enumerated, were still feeble
and imperfect. In every country, a numerous body of nobles, who con-
tinued to be formidable notwithstanding the various expedients employed
to depress them, watched all the motions of their sovereign with a jealous
attention, which set bounds to his ambition, and either prevented his forming
schemes of extensive enterprise, or obstructed the execution of them.

The ordinary revenues of every prince were so extremely small as to be
inadequate to any great undertaking. He depended for extraordinary sup-
plies on the good-will of his subjects, who granted them often with a reluctant,
and always with a sparing hand.

As the revenues of princes were inconsiderable, the armies which they could
bring into the field were unfit for long and effectual service, instead of
being able to employ troops trained to skill in arms, and to military subor-
dination, by regular discipline, monarchs were obliged to depend on such
forces as their vassals conducted to their standard in consequence of their
military teniA-es. These, as they were bound to remain under anns only for
a short time, could not march far from their usual place of residence, and
being more attached to the lord of whom they held than to the sovereign
whom they served, were often as much disposed to counteract as to for-
ward his schemes. Nor were they, even if they had been more subject
to the command of the monarch, proper instruments to carry into execution
any great and arduous enterprise. The strength of an army, formed either
for conquest or defence, lies m infantry. To the stability and discipline of
their legions, consisting chiefly of infantry, the Romans, during the times of
the republic, were indebted for their victories ; and when their descendants,
forgetting the institutions which had led them to universal dominion, so
far altered their military system as to place their principal confidence in a
numerous cavalry, the undisciplined impetuosity of the barbarous nations,
who fought mostly on foot, was sufficient, as 1 have already observ^ed, to
overcome them. These nations, soon after they settled in their new conquests,
uninstructed by the fatal error of the Romans, reHuquished the customs of
their ancestors, and converted the chief force of their armies into cavalry.
Among the Romans this change was occasioned by the effeminacy of their
troops, who could not endure the fatigues of service, which their more
virtuous and hardy ancestors had sustained with ease. Among tlie people
who established the new monarchies into which Europe was divided, this
innovation in military discipline seems to have flowed from the pride of the
nobles, who» scorning to mingle with persons of inferior rank, aimed at

aiiCT. II.] THEER APPALBS AT FIRST DISTINCT. 39

being distin^shed from them in the field, as well as durinj? peace. The in-
stitution of chivalry, and the frequency of tournaments, in which knights in
complete armour entered the lists on. horseback with extraordinary splendour,
displaying amazing address, force, and valour, brought cavalry into still greater
esteem. The fondness for that service increased to such a degree, that,
during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, the armies of Eiu-ope were
composed almost entirely of cavalry. No gentleman would appear in the field
but on horseback. To serve in any other manner he would have deemed
derogatorv to his rank. The cavalry, by ^yay of distinction, was called the
battle^ and on it alone depended the fate of every action. The infantry, col-
lected from the dregs and refuse of the people, ill armed and worse disciplined,
was almost of no account.

As these circumstances rendered the operations of particular kingdoms
less considerable and less vigorous, so they lon^ kept the i)rinces of !^urope
from giving such attention to the schemes and transactions of their neigh-
bours as might lead them to form any regular system of public security.
They were, of consequence, prevented from uniting in confederacy, or from
acting with concert, in order to establish such a distribution and balance of
power as should liinder any state from rising to a superiority which might
endanger the general liberty and independence. Durmg several centuries,
the nations of Europe appear to have considered themselves as separate
societies, scarcelv connected together by any common interest, and little
concerned in eack other's atfairs or operations. An extensive commerce did
not aiford them an opportunity of observing and penetratiu^ into the schemes
of every different state. They had not ambassadors residing constantly in
every court, to watch and give early intelligence of all its motions. The
expectation of remote advantages, or the prospect of distant and contingent
evils, was not sufficient to excite nations to take arms. Such only as vvere
within the sphere of immediate danger, and unavoidably exposed to injury
or insult, thought themselves interested in any contest, or bound to take
precautions for their own safety.

Whoever records the transactions of any of the more considerable European
states during the two last centuries, must write the history of Europe. Its
various kingdoms throughout that period have been formed into one great
system, so closely united, that each holding a determinate station, the oper-
ations of one are so felt by all, as to inffueuce their counsels and regulate
their measures. But previous to the fifteenth century, unless when vicinity
of territory rendered the occasions of discord frequent and unavoidable, or
when national emulation fomented or embittered the spirit of hostility, the
afi'airs of different countries are seldom iuterwoven with each other. In each
kingdom of Europe great events and revolutions happened, which the other
powers beheld with almost the same indifference as if they had been uninte-
rested spectators, to whom the eti'ect of these transactions could never extend.

During the violent struggles between Erance and England, and notwith-
standing the alarming progress which was made towards rendering one priuce
the master of both these kingdoms, hardly one measure, which can be con-
sidered as the result of a sagacious and prudent policy, was formed in order
to guard against an event so fatal to Europe. The dukes of Burgundy and
Bretagne, whom their situation would not permit to remain neutral, engaged,
it is true, in the contest ; but in taking their part, they seem rather to have
followed the impulse of their passions than to have been guided by any just
discernment of the danger which threatened themselves and the tranquiliity of
Europe. The other princes, seemingly unaffected by the alternate successes
of the contending parties, left them to decide the quarrel by themselves, or
interposed only by feeble and ineffectual negotiations.

40 PROGRESS OP COMBINATION. [SECT. n.

Notwitlistaiiding the perpetual hostilities in which the various kingdoms
of Spain were engaged during several centuries, and the successive occurrences
which visibly tended to unite that part of the continent into one great
monarchy, the princes of Europe hardly took any step, from which we may
conclude that they gave a proper attention to that important event. They
permitted a power to arise imperceptibly^, and to acquire strength there,
which soon became formidable to all its neighbours.

Amidst the violent convulsions with which the spirit of domination in
the see of Rome, and the turbulent ambition of the German nobles, agitated
the empire, neither the authority of the popes, seconded by all their artifices
and intrigues, nor the solicitations of the emperors, could induce any of the
powerful monarchs in Europe to engage in their quarrel, or to avaO. them-
selves of many favourable opportumties of interposing with effect and ad-
vantage.

This amazing inactivity, during transactions so interesting, is not to be
imputed to any incapacity of discerning their political consequences. _ The
power of judgmg with sagacity, and of acting with vigour, is the portion of
men of every age. The monarchs who reigned in the different kingdoms
of Europe during several centuries were not blind to their particular interest,
negligent of the public safety, or strangers to the method ot securing both. K
they did not adopt that salutary system which teaches modem politicians
to take the alarm at the prospect of distant dangers, which prompts them
to check the first encroachments of any formidable power, and which renders
each state the guardian, in some degree, of the rights and independence of
all its neighbours, this was owing entirely to such imperfections and disorders
in the civil government of each country, as made it impossible for sovereigns
to act suitably to those ideas which the posture of affairs and their own ob-
servation must have suggested.

But during the course of the fifteenth century, various events happened
which, by giving princes more entire command of the force in their respective
dominions, rendered their operations more vigorous and extensive. In con-
sequence of this, the affairs of difl'erent kingdoms becoming more frequently
as well as more intimately connected, the^ vre.<e gradually accustomed to act
in concert and confederacy, and were insensioly prepared for forming a system
of policy, in order to establish or to preserve such a balance of power as
was most consistent with tlie general security. It was during the reign of
Charles the Eifth that the ideas on which this system is founded first came to
be fully understood. It was then that the maxims by which it has been
nniforinly maintained since that era were universally adopted. On this
account a view of the causes and events which contributed to establish a
plan of policy more salutarj^ and extensive than any that has taken place in
the conduct of hunian affairs, is not only a necessaiy introduction to the
following work, but is a capital object in the history of Europe.

The first event that occasioned any considerable alteration in the arrange-
ment of affairs in Europe was the annexation of the extensive territories
which England possessed on the continent to the crown of France. While
the English were masters of several of the most fertile and opulent provinces
in France, and a great part of its most martial inhabitants was bound to
follow their standard, an English monarch considered himself rather as the
rival, than as the vassal of the sovereign of whom he held. The kings of
France, circumscribed and thwarted in their schemes and operations by an
adversary no less jealous than formidable, durst not enter upon any enterprise
of importance or of difficulty. The English were always at hand, ready to
oppose them. They disputed even their right to their crown, and being able
to penetrate, with ease, into the heart of the kingdom, could arm against

SECT. II. J ITS EFFECT ON THE PKENCH MONAKCIir. 41

the

m

them tliose very hands whicli ought to have been employed in their defence.
Timid counsels and feeble efforts were natural to monarchs in such a situation.
France, dismembered and overawed, could not attain its proper station in
the system of Eui-o^e. But the death of Henry V. of England, happily for
"" ance, and not untortuiiately for his own country, delivered the French
)m the calamity of having a foreign master seated on their throne. The
eakness of a long minority, the dissensions in the English court, together
ith the unsteadv and languid conduct which these occasioned, afforded the
rench a favourable opportunity of recovering the territories which they ha(J.
lost. The native valour of the French nobility heightened to an enthusiastic
confidence by a supposed interposition of heaven m their behaK, conducted
in the field by skilful leaders, and directed in the cabinet by a prudent
monarcli, was exerted with such vigour and success, during this favourable
juncture, as not only wrested from the EngUsh their new conquests, but
stripped them of their ancient possessions in France, and reduced them
within the narrow precincts of Calais and its petty tenitory.

As soon as so many considerable provinces were reunited to their dominions,
tlie kings of France, conscious of this acquisition of strength, be^an to form
bolder schemes of interior policy, as well as of foreign operations. They
immediately became formidaole to their neighbours, who began to fix their
attention on their measures and motions, the importance of which they fully
perceived. From l^his era, France, possessed of the advantages which it
derives from the situation and contiguity of its territories, as well as from
the number and valour of its people, rose to new influence in Europe, and
was the first power in a condition to give alarm to the jealousy or fears of the
states around it.

Nor was France indebted for this increase of importance merely to the re-
union of the provinces which had been torn from it. A cu'cumstance
attended the recovery of these, which, though less considerable, and less
observed, contributed not a little to give additional vigour and decision to
all the efforts of that monarchy. During the obstinate struggles between
France and England, all the defects of the military system under the feudal
government were sensibly felt. A war of long continuance languished when
carried on by troops bound and accustomed to keep the field only for a short
time. Armies composed cliiefly of heavy-armed cavalry were unfit either for
the defence or the attack of the many towns and castles wliich it became
necessary to guard or to reduce. In order to obtain such permanent and
effective force as became requisite during these lengthened contests, the kings
of France took into their pay considerable bands of mercenary soldiers,
levied sometimes among their o^vn subjects, and sometimes m foreign
countries. But as the feudal policy provided no sufficient fund for such ex-
traordinary service, these adventurers were dismissed at the close of every
campaign, or upon any prospect of accommodation ; and having been little
accustomed to the restraints of discipline, they frequently turned their anns
against the country which they had been hired to defend, and desolated it
with cruelty not inferior to that of its foreign enemies.

A body of troops kept constantly on foot, and regularly trained to military
subordination, would have supplied what was wanting in the feudal consti-
tution, and have furnished princes with the means of executing enterprises
to which they were then unequal. Such an establishment, however, was so
repugnant to the genius of feudal policy, and so incompatible with the privi-
leges and pretensions of the nobihty, that during several centuries no monarch
was either so bold or so powerful as to venture on any step towards introducing
it. At last Charles VII., availing himself of the reputation which he had
acquired by his successes against the English, and t^dng advantage of the

42 GROWTH OF STANDING AEMIES. [SECT. 11.

impressions of terror which such a formidable enemy had left upon the minds

of his subjects, executed that which his predecessors durst not attempt. [1445.]
Under pretence of having always ready a force sufficient to defend the kiag'-
dom against any sudden invasion of the English, he. at the time when he
disbanded his other troops, retained under arms a body of nine thousand
cavalry, and of sixteen thousand infantry. He appropriated funds for the
regular payruent of these ; he stationed them in different places of the king-
dom, according to his pleasure, and appointed the officers who commanded
and disciplined them. The prime nobility courted tliis service, in which they
were taught to depend on their sovereign, to execute liis orders, and to look
up to him as the judge and rewarder of their merit. The feudal mLhtiaj com-
posed of the vassals whom the nobles could call out to follow their standard,
as it was in no degree comparable to a body of soldiers regularly trained to
war, sunk gradually in reputation. The strength of an army was no longer
estimated solely by the number of cavahy which served in it. Prom the tune
that gunpowder was invented, and the use of cannon in the field became
general, horsemen cased in complete armour lost all the advantages which
gave them the pre-eminence over other soldiers. The helmet, the shield, and
the breast-plate, which resisted the arrow or the spear, no longer afforded
them security against these new instruments of destruction. The service of
infantry rose agaiu into esteem, and victories were gained, and conquests
made, chiefly by their efforts. The nobles and their military tenants, though
sometimes summoned to the field, according to ancient form, were considered
as an encumbrance upon the troops with wliich they acted, and were viewed
with contempt hy soldiers accustomed to the vigorous and steady operations
of regular service.

Thus the regulations of Charles the Seventh, by establishing the first
standing army known in Europe, occasioned an important revolution in its
affairs and policy. By taking from the nobles the sole direction of the national
military force, wliich had raised them to such high authority and importance,
a deep wound was given to the feudal aristocracy, in that part where its
power seemed to be most complete.

Erance, by forming this body of regular troops, at a time when there was
hardly a squadron or company kept in constant pay in any other part of
Europe, acquired such advantages over its neighbours, either in attack or de-
fence, that seK-preservation made it necessary for them to imitate its example.
Mercenary troops were introduced into all the considerable Idngdoms on the
continent. They gradually became the only military force that was employed
or trusted. It has lon^ tDcen the chief object of policy to increase and to
support them. It has long been the great aim of princes and ministers lo
discredit and to annihilate all other means of national activity or defence.

As the kings of Erance got the start of other powers m establishing a
military force in their dominions, which enabled them to eairy on foreign
operations with more vigour, and to greater extent, so they were the first who
-effectually broke the feudal aristocracy, and humbled the great vassals of the
cro^vn, who, by their exorbitant x)ower, had long cu'cumscribed the royal
prerogative within very narrow limits, and had rendered aU the efforts of the
monarchs of Europe inconsiderable. Many things concurred to undermine,
gTadually, the power of the feudal aristocracy in Erance. The wealth and
property of the nobility were greatly inipah-ed during the long wars which
the kingdom was obliged to maintain with the English. The extraordinary
zeal with which they exerted themselves in defence of their country against
its ancient enemies, exhausted entirely the fortunes of some gi-eat fandlies.
As almost every province in the kingdom was, in its turn, the seat of war, the
lands of others we^e exposed to the depredations of the enemy, were ravaged

1ECT. II.] POUCY OF LOUIS THE ELEVENTH OF FEANCE. 43

oy the mercenary troops which their sovereigns hired occasionally, but could
not pay, or were desolated with rage still more destructive by the peasants,
in diiTerent insurrections. At the same time, the necessities of government
Having forced then* kin^s upon the desperate expedient of making great and
sudden alterations in tlie current coin of tlic kmgdom, tlie fines, quit-rents,
and other payments fixed by ancient custom, sunk much in value, and the
revenues ot a iief were reduced far below the sura which it had once yielded.
During their contests with the English, in which a generous nobility courted
everv station where danger appeared, or honour could be gained, many
families of npte became extinct, and their fiefs were reunited to the crown.
Other fiefs, in a long course of years, fell to female heirs, and were divided
among them, were duniiiished by profuse donations to the church, or were
broken and split by the succession of remote collateral heirs.*

Encouraged by these manifest symptoms of decline in that body which he
wished to depress, Charles VII., during the first inteiTal of peace with
England, made several efforts towards establishing the re^al prerogative on
the ruins of the aristocracy. But his obligations to the nobles were so many,
as well as recent, and their services in recoverinj^ the kingdom so splendid,
as rendered it necessary for him to proceed with moderation and caution.
Such, however, was the authority which the crown had acquired by the pro-
gress of its arras against the English, and so much was the power of the
nobility diminished, that, without any opposition, he soon made innovations
of great consequence in the constitution. He not only established that for-
midable body of regular troops, which has been mentioned, but he was the
first monarch of Erance who, oy his royal edict, without the concurrence of
the states-general of the kingdom, levied an extraordinary subsidy on his
people. He prevailed likewise with his subjects to render several taxes pei-
petnal, which had formerly been imposed occasionally, and exacted during a
short time. By means of all these iimovations, he acquired such an increase
of power, and extended his prerogative so far beyond its ancient limits, that,
from being the most dependent prince who had ever sat upon the throne of
Erance, he came to possess, during the latter years of his reign, a degree of
authority which none of his predecessors had enjoyed for several ages.-

Thatplan of humbling the nobility which Charles began to execute, his son
Louis XI. carried on with a bolder spirit and with greater success. Louis
was formed by nature to be a tyrant ; and at whatever period he had been
called to ascend the throne, his reign must have abounded with schemes to
oppress his people, and to render his own power absolute. Subtle, unfeeling,
cruel ; a stranger to every principle of integrity, and regardless of decency,
he scomed all the restraints which a sense of honour, or the desire of fame,
imposes even upon ambitious men. Sagacious, at the same time, to discern
what he deemed his true interest, and influenced by that alone, he was ca-
pable of pursuing it with a persevering industry, and of adhering to it with a
systematic spirit, fi-om whicn no object could divert, and no danger could
deter him.

The maxims of his administration were as profound as they were fatal to
the privileges of the nobility. He fUled all the departments of government
with new men, and often with persons whom he called from the lowest as
well as the most despised functions in life, and raised at pleasure to stations
of ^reat power or trust. These were his only confidants, whom he considted
in forming his plans, and to whom he committed the execution ot them : while

* Boulainvilliers, Histoire de Gouvernement de France, Lettre xii,
2 Histoire de France par Velly et Viliaret, torn, xv 331, &c., 38S. torn, xru 32i.
Variations de la Monarchic Franyoise, torn, iii 1G2.

44 POLICY OF LOUIS THE ELl^VENTH OY TEAN-CE. fsECT. 11.

the nobles, accustomed to be the companions, the favomites, and the ministers
of their sovereigns, were treated with such studied and mortifying neglect,
that if they woiud not submit to follow a court in wliich they appeared with-
out any shadow of their ancient power, they were obliged to retire to their
castles, where they remained unemployed and forgotten. Not satisfied with
having rendered the nobles of less consideration, by taking out of their hands
the sole direction of affairs, Louis added insult to neglect ; and, by violating
their most valuable privileges, endeavoured to degrade the order, and to
reduce the members of it to the same level with other subjects. Persons
of the highest rank among them, if so bold as to oppose his schemes, or so
unfortunate as to awaken the jealousy of his capricious temper, were perse-
cuted with rigour, from which ail who belonged to the order of nobility had
hitherto been exempt ; they were tried by judges who had no right to take
cognisance of their acti9ns, and were subjected to tortui'e, or condemned to
an ignominious death, without regard to their birth or condition. The people,
accustomed to see the blood of the most illustrious personages shed by the
hands of the common executioner, to behold them shut up in dungeons, and
carried about in cages of iron, began to view the nobiUty with less reverence
than formerly, and looked up with terror to the royal authority, which seemed
to have humoled or annihilated every other power in the kingdom.

At the same time, Louis, being afraid that oppression might rouse the
nobles, whom the rigour of his government had intimidated, or that self-
preservation might at last teach them to unite, dexterously scattered among
them the seeds of discord, and industriously fomented those ancient ani-
mosities between the great families, which the spirit of jealousy and emxda-
tion, natural to the feudal government, had origmallv kindled, and still kept
alive. To accomplish this, all the arts of intrigue, all the mysteries and re-
finements of his fraudulent policy, were employed, and with such success,
that at a juncture which required the most strenuous efforts, as well as
the most perfect union, the nobles never acted, except dm-ing one short sally
of resentment at the beginning of his rei^n, either with vigour or in concert.

As he stripped the nobility of their privileges, he added to the power and
prerogative of the crown. In order to have at command such a body of
soldiers as might be sufficient to crush any force that his disaffected subjects
could draw together, he not only kept on foot the regular troops which his
father had raised, but, besides augmenting their number considerably, he took
into his pay six thousand Swiss, at that time the best-discipHned and most
formidable infantry in Europe.' Prom the jealousy natural to tyrants, he
confided in these foreign mercenaries, as the most devoted instniments of
oppression, and the most faithful guardians of the power which he had
usurped. That they might be ready to act on the shortest warning, he, during
the latter years of his reign, kept a considerable body of them encamped ia
one place.*

Great funds were requisite, not only to defray the expense of this additional
establishment, but to supply the sums employed in the various enterprises
which the restless activity of his genius prompted him to undertake. But
the prerogative that his father had assumed of levying taxes without the
concurrence of the states-general, which he was careful not only to retain,
but to extend, enabled him to provide, in some measure, for the increasing
charges of government.

What his prerogative, enlarged as it was, could not furnish his address
procured. He was the first monarch in Europe who discovered the method

» Mem. de Comines, torn. i. 3G7. Dan, Hist, de la Jlilice Fran9oise, torn, i, 182.
* M€m. de Com. torn. i. 381.

th

SECT. II. I HENRY THE SEVENTH OF ENGLAND. 45

of managing? those threat assemblies, in which the feudal policy had vested
the power of granting subsidies and of imposing taxes. He first taught other
princes the fatal art of beginning their attack on public liberty, by corrupting
the source from which it should flow. By exerting all his power and address
in influencing the election of representatives, bv bribinj^ or overawing the
embers, and by various changes which he artfully made in the form of their
eliberations, Louis acquired such entire direction of these assemblies, that,
rom being the vigilant guardians of the privileges and property of the people^
^ e rendered them tamely subservient towards promoting the most odious
measures of his reign.* As no power remained to set bounds to his exactions,
he not only continued all tlie taxes imposes! by his father, but he made great
additions to them, which amounted to a sum that appeared astonishing to
his contemporaries,^

Nor was it the power alone or wealth of the crown that Louis increased ;
he extended its territories by acquisitions of various kinds. He got posses-
sion of Kousillon by purchase ; Provence was conveyed to him by the will of
Charles de Anion ; and upon the death of Charles the Bold, he seized with
a strong hand Burgundy and Artois, which had belonged to that prince.
Thus, during the course of a single reign, France was formed into one com-
pact kingdom, and the steady unrelenting policy of Louis XL not only
subdued the haughty spirit of the feudal nobles, but established a species of
government, scarcely less absolute or less terrible than eastern despotism.

But, fatal as his administration was to the liberties of his suDJects, the
authority which he acquired, the resources of which he became master, and
his freedom from restraint in concerting his plans as well as in executing
them, rendered his reign active and enterprising. Louis negotiated in all
the courts in Europe ; he observed the motions of all his neighbours ; he
engaged, either as principal or as an auxiliary, in every great transaction ; his
resolutions were prompt, his operations vigorous ; and upon every emergence
he could call forth into action the whole force of his kingdom. From the
era of his reign the kings of France, no longer fettered and circumscribed at
home by a jealous nobility, have exerted themselves more abroad, have formed
more extensive schemes of foreign conquests, and have carried on war with a
spirit and vigour long unknown in Europe.

The example which Louis set was too inviting not to be imitated by other
princes. Henry VII., as soon as he was seated on the throne of England,
formed the plan of enlarging his own prerogative by breaking the power of
the nobility. The circumstances imder which he undertook to execute it
were less favourable than those which induced Charles VII. to make the same
attempt ; and the spirit vf ith which he conducted it was very dilFerent from
that of Louis XI. Charles, by the success of his arms against the English,
by the merit of having expelled them out of so manv provinces, had esta-
blished himself so firmly in the confidence of his people, as encouraged him
to make bold encroachments on the ancient constitution. The daiing genius
of Louis broke through every barrier, and endeavoured to sunnount or to
remove every obstacle that stood in his way. But Henry held the sceptre by
a disputed title ; a popular faction was ready every moment to take arms
against him ; and after long civil wars, during which the nobility had often
displayed their power in creating and deposing kings, he felt that the regal

f 8 M^m. de Comin. torn. 1. 136. Chron. Scandal, ibid. torn. ii. p. 71.

' « Mdm. de Com. torn. i. 334. Charles VII. levied tKxes to the amount of 1,800,000
francs; Louis XI. raised 4,700,000. The former had in pay 9,000 cavalrv and 16,000
infantry ; the latter augmented the cavahy to 15,000, and the infantry to 25,000. Ibid,
torn. 1.384.

46 PEEFIDY OF LOUIS THE ELEVENTH [SECT. TL,

authority had becE so much relaxed, and that he entered into possession
of a prerogative so much abridged, as rendered it necessary to carry on
his measui-es deliberately;, and without any violent exertion. He endeavoured
to underrnine that formidable structure, which he durst not attack by open
force. His schemes, though cautious and slow in their operation, were well
concerted, and productive in the end of great efFeots. By his laws, permitting
the barons to oreak the entails of their estates, and expose them to sale ;
by his regulations to prevent the nobility from keeping in their service those
numerous bands of retainers, which rendered them formidable and turbulent ;
by favouring the rising power of the commons ; by encouraging population,
agriculture, and commerce ; by securing to his subjects, during a long reign,
the enjoyment of the blessings which flow from the arts of peace ; by accus-
tommg them to an administration of government, under which tne laws
were executed with steadiness and vigour ; he made imperceptibly consider-
able alterations in the English constitution, and transmitted to his successor
authority so extensive, as rendered him one of the most absolute monarchs
in Europe, and capable of the greatest and most vigorous efforts.

In Spain, the union of all its crowns by the marriage of Ferdinand and
Isabella ; the glory that they acquii-ed by the conquest of Granada, which
brought the odious dominion of the Moors to a period: the command of
the great armies which it had been necessary to keep long on foot, in order
to accompHsh this ; the wisdom and steadiness of their administration ; and
the address with which they availed themselves of every incident that oc-
curred to humble the nobility, and to extend their own prerogative, con-
spired in raising these monarchs to such eminence and authority, as none of
their predecessors had ever enjoyed. Though several causes, which shall be
explained in another place, prevented their attaining the same powers with
the kings of Erance and England, and preseiTcd the feudal constitution longer
entire in Spain, their great abilities suppHed the defects of their prerogative,
and improved with such dexterity_ all the advantages which they possessed,
that Eerdinand carried on his foreign operations, which were very extensive,
with extraordinary vigour and effect.

While these princes were thus enlarging the boundaries of prerogative,
and taking such steps towards rendering their kingdoms capable of acting
with union and force, events occurred which called them fortn to exert the
new powers which they had acquired. These engaged them in such a series
of enterprises and negotiations, that the affairs of all the considerable
nations ia Europe came to be insensibly interwoven with each other • and a
great political system was gradually formed, which grew to be an object of
universal attention.

The first event wliich merits notice, on account of its influence in pro-
ducing this change in the state of Europe, was the marriage of the daughter
of Charles the Bold, the sole heiress of the House of Burgundy. Eor some
years before her father's death, she had been considered as the apparent
successor to his territories, and Charles had made proposals of marrying
her to several different princes, with a view of alluring them, by that offer,
to favour the schemes Avhich his restless ambition was continually forming.

This rendered the alUance with her an object of general attention; and
all the advantages of acquiring possession of her territories, the most opulent
at that tune, and the best cultivated of any on this side of tne Alps, were per-
fectly understood. As soon, then as the untimely death of Charles opened
the succession, the eyes of all the princes in Em-ope were tui-ned towards
Mary, and they felt themselves deeply interested m the choice which she
was about to make of the person on whom she would bestow that rich
inheritance.

SECT. II. TOWARDS MAUT OF BUKGTTNDT. 49"

Louis XI., from whose kingdom several of the provinces which she pos-
sessed liad been dismembered, and whose dominions stretched along the
frontier of her territories, had every inducement to court her alliance. He
had, likewise, a good title lo expect the favourable reception of anj rea-
sonable proposition he should make, with respect to the disposal of a prmcess
who was the vassal of his crown, and descended from the royal blood of
Prance, There were only two propositions, however, which he could make
with propriety. The one was the marriage of the dauphin, the other that
of the count of Angouleme, a prince of the blood, with the [heiress of Bur-
gundy. By the former he would have annexed all her territories to Ms crown,
and have rendered France at once the most respectable monarchy in Europe.
But the great disparity of age between the two parties, Mary being twenty
and the dauphin only eight years old : the avowed resolution of the Flemings,
not to choose a master possessed of snch power as might enable him to form
schemes dangerous to their liberties ; togetner with their dread of falling nnder
the odious and oppressive government of Louis, were obstacles in tlie way
of executing this plan, which it was in vain to think of surmounting. Bv
the latter, the accomplishment of which might have been attained with
ease, Mary having discovered some inclination to a match with the count of
Angouleme, ' Loms would have prevented the dominions of the house of Bur-
gundv from being conveyed to a rival power, and in return for such a splendid
establishment for the count of Angouleme, he must have obtained, or would
have extorted from him, concessions highly beneficial to the crown of France.
But Louis had been accustomed so long to the intricacies of a crooked and
insidious policy, that he could not be satisfied with what was obvious and
simple ; and was so fond of artifice and refinement, that he came to consider
these rather as an ultimate object, than merely as the means of conducting
affairs. From this principle, no less than from his unwillingness to aggran-
dize any of liis own subjects, or from his desire of oppressing the House of
Burgundv, wliich he hated, he neglected the course which a prince less able
and artful would have taken, and followed one more suited to his own genius.
He proposed to render himself, by force of arms, master of those proviuces,
which Mary held of the crown of France, and even to push his conquests
into her other territories, while he amused her with insisting conttQually on
the impracticable match with the daupliin. In prosecuting this plan he
displayed wonderful talents and iudustry, and exhibited such scenes of
treachery, falsehood, and cruelty, as are amazing even in the history of Louis
XI. Immediately upon the death of Charles, he put his troops iu motion, and
advanced towards the Netherlands. He comipted the leading men in the
provinces of Burgundy and Artois, and seduced them to desert their sovereign.
He got admission iuto some of the frontier towns by bribing the governors ;
the gates of others were opened to him in consequence of his intrigues with
the mhabitants. He negotiated with Mary; and, in order to render her
odious to her subjects, he betrayed to them her most important secrets.
He carried on a private correspondence with the two ministers whom she
chiefly trusted, and then communicated the letters wliich he had received from
them to the states of Flanders, who, enraged at their perfidy, brought them
immediately to trial, tortured tliem with extreme cruelty, and, unmoved by
the tears and entreaties of their sovereign, who knew and approved of all
that the ministers had done, they beheaded them in her presence."

While Louis, by his conduct, unworthy of a great monarch, was securing
the possession of Burgundy, Artois, and the to^vns on the Somme, the states

^ Mdm. de Comines, i. 358.

" M^m. de Comines, liv. v. chap. 16, p. 309, &c

48 CHA-RLES THE EIGHTH 01 FRANCE : [SECT. II.

of Planders carried on a negotiation with the emperor Frederic III., and
concluded a treaty of marriage between tlieir sovereign and his son Maxi-
milian, archduke of Austria. The illustrious birtJi of that prince, as well as
the high dignity of which he had the prospect, rendered the aUiance
honourable for Mary, whUe, from the distance of his hereditary territories,
and the scantiness of his revenues, his power was so inconsiderable, as did
not excite the jealousy or fear of the Flemings.

Thus Louis, by the caprice of_ his temper, and the excess of Ms refine-
ments, put the House of Austria in possession of this noble mheritance. By
this acquisition, the foundation of the future grandeur of Charles V. was
laid ; and he became master of those territories, which enabled him to carry
on his most formidable and decisive operations against Erance. Thus, too,
the same monarch who first united the interior force of France, and established
it on such a footing as to render it formidable to the rest of Europe, con-
tributed, far contrary to his intention, to raise up a rival power, which,
during two centuries, has thwarted the measures, opposed the arms, and
checked the progress of his successors.

The next event of consequence in the fifteenth century was the expedition
of Charles YIII. into Italy. This occasioned revolutions no less memorable ;
produced alterations, both in the militaiy and poHtical system, which were
more immediately perceived ; roused the states of Eui-ope to bolder efforts ;
and blended their affairs and interests more closely together. The mild ad-
ministration of Charles, a weak but gener9us prince, seems to have revived
the spirit and genius of the Erench nation, which the rigid despotism of
Louis XI. his father, had depressed, and almost extinguished. The ardour
for military service, natural to the Erench nobility, returned, and their young
monarch was impatient to distinguish his reign by some splendid enterprise.
While he was uncertain towards what quarter he should turn his arms, the
solicitations and intrigues of an Italian _ pohtician, no less infamous on
account of his crimes than eminent for his abilities, determined his choice.
Ludovico Sforza, having formed the design of deposing his nephew, the duke
of Milan, and of placing himself on the ducal throne, was so much afraid of a
combination of the Italian powers to oppose this measure, and to support
the injured prince, with whom most of them were connected by blood or
alliance, that he saw the necessity of securing the aid of some able protector.
The king of France was the person to whom he applied ; and without dis-
closing his own intentions, he laboui'ed to prevail with him to march into
Italy, at the head of a powerful army, in order to seize the crown of Najjles,
to which Charles had pretensions as heir of the house of Anjou. The right
to that kingdom, claimed by the Angevin family, had been conveyed to Louis
XI. by Charles of Anjou, count of Mayne and Provence. But that sagacious
monarch, though he took immediate possession of those territories of which
Charles was really master, totally disregarded his ideal title to a kingdom,
over which _ another prince reigned in tranquillity, and uniformly declined
involving himself in the labyrinth of Italian politics. His son, more adven-
turous, or more inconsiderate, embarked eagerly in this enterprise ; and,
contemning all the remonstrances of his most experienced counsellors, pre-
pared to carry it on with the utmost vigour.

The power which Charles possessed was so great, that he reckoned
himself equal to this arduous undertaking. His father had transmitted to
liim such an ample prerogative, as gave him the entire command of his king-
dom. He himself had added considerably to the extent of his dominions, by
his prudent marriage with the heiress of Bretagne, which rendered Mm master
of that province, the last of the great fiefs that remained to be annexed to the
crown. He soon assembitd forces which he thought sufficient; and so

SECT. II.] HIS INVASION OP ITALY. 49

impatient was lie to enter on his career as a conqueror, that, sacrificing
what was real for what was chimerical, he restored Kousillon to Ferdinand,
and gave up ijart of his father's acquisitions in Artois to Maximilian, with a
view of inoucing these princes not to molest France while he was carrying
on his operations in Italy.

But so difl'ercnt were the efforts of the states of Euroi)e in the fifteenth
century, from those wliich we shall beliold in the course of this history, that
the army with which Charles undertook this great entei-prise did not exceed
twenty thousand men. The train of artillery, however, the ammunition, and
warhke stores of every kind provided for its use, were so considerable, as
to bear some resemblance to the immense apparatus of modem war.^

"When the French entered Italy, they met with nothing able to resist them.
The Italian powers havin^? remained, during a long period, undisturbed by
the invasion of any foreign enemy, had formed a system with respect to
their affairs, both in peace and war, peculiar to themselves. In order to
adjust the interests, and balance the power, of the different states into which
Italy was divided, they were engaged in perpetual and endless negotiations
with each other, which they conducted with all the subtlety of a refining and
deceitful policy. Their contests in the field, when they had recourse to
arms, were decided ia mock battles, by innocent and bloodless victories.
Upon the first appearance of the danger which now impended, they had re-
course to the arts which they had studied, and employed their utmost
skill in intrigue in order to avert it. But this jiroving ineffectual, tlieir
bands of effeminate mercenaries, the only military force that remained in the
countrv, being fit only for the parade of service, were terrified at the aspect
of real war, and shrunk at its approach. The impetuosity of the French
valour appeared to them in-esistible. Florence, Fisa, and Rome, opened
their gates as the French army advanced. The prospect of this dreadful
invasion struck one king of Naples with such panic terror, that he died (if
we may believe historians) of the fright. Another abdicated his throne from
the same pusillanimous spirit. A tliird fled out of his dominions, as soon as
the enemy appeared on the Neapolitan frontiers. Charles, after marching
thither from the bottom of the Alps, with as much rapidity, and almost as
little opposition, as if he had been on a progress through his own dominions,
took quiet possession of the throne of Naples, and intimated or gave law to
every power in Italy.

Such was the conclusion of an expedition, that must be considered as
the first ^reat exertion of those new powers which the princes of Europe
had acquired and now began to exercise. Its effects were no less consider-
able, tlian its success had been astonishing. The Italiaiis,^ unable to resist
the impression of the enemy who broke in upon them, permitted him to hold
on his course undisturbed. They quickly perceived that no single power,
wliich they could rouse to action, was an equal match for a monarch, who
ruled over such extensive territories, and was at the head of such a martial
people ; but that a confederacy might accompHsh what the separate members
of it durst not attempt. To this expedient, the only one that remained to
deliver or to preserve them from the yoke, they had recourse. While
Charles inconsiderately wasted Ids time at Naples in festivals and triumphs
on account of his past successes, or was fondly dreaming of future conquests
in the East, to the empire of which he now aspired, they formed against him
a powerful combination of almost all the Italian states, supported by the em-
peror Maximilian, and Ferdinand, king of Ara^ou. The union of so many
powers, who suspended or forgot aU. their particular animosities, that they

9 M^z^ray, Hist. torn. iL 777.

60 THE BALANCE OP POWEE. [SECT. II.

might act in concert against an enemy who had become fonnidable to them
all, awakened Charles from his thoughtless security. He saw now no prospect
of safety but in retuiming to Erance. An army of thii'ty thousand men, assem-
bled by the allies, was ready to obstruct his march ; and though the French,
with a daring courage, which more than countervailed their inferiority in
number, broke through that great body, and gained a victory, which opened
to their monarch a safe passage into his own territories, he was stripped of all
his conquests in Italy in as short a time as it had taken to acquii'e them ; and
the political system in that country resumed the same appearance as before
his invasion.

The sudden and decisive effect of this confederacy seems to have instructed
the princes and statesmen of Italy as much as the irruption of the French had
disconcerted and alarmed them. They had extended, on this occasion, to the
affairs of Europe, the maxims of that political science which had hitherto
been applied oiily to regulate the operations of the petty states in their own
country. They had discovered the method of preventing any monarch from
rising to such a de^-ee of power, as was inconsistent with the general
liberty ; and had manifested the importance of attending to that great secret
in modern poHcy, the preservation of a proper distribution of power among
all the members of the system into which the states of Europe are formed.
During all the wars of which Italy from that time was the theatre, and
amidst the hostile operations which the imprudence of Louis XII. and the
ambition of Ferdinand of Aragon carried on in that country, with little inter-
ruption, from_ the close of the fifteenth century to that period at which the
subsequent history commences, the maintaining a proper balance of power
between the contending parties became the great object of attention to the
statesmen of Italy. IsFor was the idea confined to them. Self-preservation
taught other powers to adopt it. It grew to be fashionable and universal.
From this era we can trace the progress of that intercourse between nations,
which has linked the powers of Europe so closely together ; and can discern
the operations of that provident policy which, during peace, guards against
remote and contingent dangers; and, in war, has prevented rapid and de-
structive conquests.

This was not the only effect of the operations which the great powers of
Europe carried on in Italy. They contributed to render general such a change,
as the French had begun to make in the state of their troops ; and obliged
all the princes, who appeared on this new theatre of action, to put the military
force of their kingdoms on an establislunent similar to that of France. When
the seat of war came to be remote from the countries which maintained the
contest, the service of the feudal vassals ceased to be of any use ; and the
necessity of employing soldiers regularly trained to arms, and kept in con-
stant pay, came at once to be evident. When Charles Vill. mai-ched into
Italy, his cavalry was entirely composed of those companies of gendarmes,
embodied by Charles VII., and continued by Louis XI. ; his infantry con-
sisted partly of Swiss, hired of the Cantons, and partly of Gascons, armed
and disciplined after the Swiss model. To these Louis XII. added a body of
Germans, well known in the wars of Italy by the name of the black bands.
But neither of these monarchs made any account of the feudal militia, or ever
had recourse to that military force which they might have commanded, in virtue
of the ancient institutions in their kingdom. Maximilian and Ferdinand, as
soon as they be^n to act in Italy, employed simila)- insti-uments, and tTusted
the execution of their plans entirely to mercenary troops.

This innovation in tne military system was quickly followed by another,
which the custom of employing Swiss in the Italian wars was the occasion of
introducing. The arms ana discipline of the Swiss were different from those

filCT. n.] MILITARY INNOVATIONS. 51

of other European nations. During their long and violent struggles in defence
of their liberties against the house of Austria, whose armies, like those of
other considerable princes, consisted chieily of heavy-armed cavalry, the
Swiss found that their poverty, and the small number of gentlemen residii^
in their country, at that time barren and ill cultivated, put it out of their
power to bring mto the field any body of horse capable of facing the enemy.
Necessity compelled them to place all their confidence in infantry; and in
order to render it capable of withstanding the shock of cavalry, they gave
the soldiers breast-plates and hehnets as defensive armour, together with long
spears, halberts, and heavy swords, as weapons of offence. They formed them
into large battalions, ranged in deep and close an-ay, so that they could present
on every side a formidable front to the enemy,^" The men-at-arms could make
no impression on the solid strength of such a body. It repulsed the Austrians
in all their attempts to conquer Swisserland. It broke the Burgundian gen-
darmerie, which was scarcely inferior to that of France, either in number or
reputation ; and when first called to act in Italy, it bore down, by its irre-
sistible force, every enemy that attempted to oppose it. These repeated
proofs of the decisive effect of infantry, exhibited on such conspicuous occa-
sions, restored that service to reputation, and gradually re-established the
opinion, which had been long exploded, of its superior importance in the
operations of war. But the glorj-- which the Swiss had acquired, having in-
spired them with such high ideas of their own prowess and consequence, as
frequently rendered them mutinous and insolent, the princes who employed
them became weary of depending on the caprice of foreign mercenaries, and
began to turn their attention towards the improvement of their national in-
fantry.

The German powers having the command of men, whom nature has en-
dowed with that steady courage and persevering strength which form them
to be soldiers, soon modelled their troops in such a manner that they vied
with the Swiss both in discipline and valour.

The French monarchs, though more slowly, and with greater difficulty, ac-
customed the impetuous spirit of their people to subordination and discipline ;
and were at such pains to render their national infantry respectable, that as
early as the reign of Louis XII. several gentlemen of high rank had so far
abandoned their ancient ideas, as to condescend to enter into that service."

The Spaniards, whose situation made it difficult to employ any other than
their national troops in the southern parts of Italy, WTiic'h was the chief
scene of their operations in that country, not only adopted the Swiss disci-
pline, but improved upon it, by mingling a proper number of soldiers, armed
with heavy muskets, in their battalions ; and thus formed that famous body
of infantry, which, duiing a century and a half, was the admiration and terror
of all Europe. The Italian states gradually diminished the number of their
cavalry, and, in imitation of their more powerful neighbours, brought the
strength of their annies to consist in foot-soldiers. From this period the
nations of Europe have c^ried on war with forces more adapted to every
species of service, more capable of acting in every country, and better fitted
both for making conquests, and for preserving them.

As theii- efforts in Italy led the people ot Europe to these improvements
in the art of war, they gave them like^vlse the first idea of the expense with
which it is accompanied when extensive or of long continuance, and accus-
tomed every nation to the bui'den of such impositions as are necessary for
supporting it. While the feudal policy subsisted in full vigour, wliile armies

'0 Machiavel's Art of War, b. ii. chao. ii. p. 451.
»> Brantome, torn. x. p. 18. Mdm. de Fleurauges, 143.
e2

52 THE LEAGUE OF CAMBRAY. fSECT. II.

were composed of military vassals called forth to attack some neighbouring
power, and to perform, in a short campaign, the services which they owed to
their sovereign, the expense of war was extremely moderate. A small subsidy
enabled a prince to begin and to finish his greatest military operations. But
when Italy became the theatre on which the powers of Europe contended for
superiority, the preparations requisite for such a distant expedition, the pay
of armies kept constantly on foot, their subsistence m a foreim country, the
sieges to be undertaken, and the towns to be defended, swelled the charges
of war immensely, and, by creating demands unknown in less active tiroes,
multiplied taxes in every kingdom. The progress of ambition, however, was
so rapid, and princes extended their operations so fast, that it was impossible
at first to establish funds proportional to the increase of expense which these
occasioned. When Charles YIII. invaded Naj)les, the sums requisite for
carrying on that enterprise so far exceeded those which France had been
accustomed to contribute for the support of government, that before he
reached the frontiers of Italy, his treasury was exhausted, and the domestic
resources, of which his extensive prerogative gave him the command, were
at an end. As he durst not venture to lay any new imposition on his people,,
oppressed already with the weight of unusual burdens, the only expedient
that remained was to borrow of the Genoese as much money as might enable
Mm to continue his march. But he could not obtain a sufficient sum, without
consenting to pay annually the exorbitant interest of forty-two livres for every
hundred that he received '^ We may observe the same disproportion between
the efforts and revenues of other princes, his contemporaries. From this
period taxes went on increasing ; and during the reign of Charles V. such
sums were levied in every state, as would have appeared enormous at the close
of the fifteenth century, and gradually prepared the way for the still more
exorbitant exactions of modem times.

The last transaction, previous to the reign of Charles V., that merits at-
tention on account of its influence upon the state of Europe, is the league of
Cambray. To humble the republic of Venice, and to divide its territories,
was the object of all the powers who united in this confederacy. The civil
constitution of Venice, established on a firm basis, had suffered no consi-
derable alteration for several centuries ; during which the senate conducted
its affairs by maxims of policy no less prudent than vigorous, and adhered to
these with an unifonn consistent spirit, which gave that commonwealth great
advantage over other states, whose views and measures changed as often as
the form of their government, or the person who administered it. By these
unintermitted exertions of wisdom and valour, the Venetians enlarged tlie
dominions of their commonwealth, until it became the most considerable
power in Italy ; while their extensive commerce, the useful and curious
manufactures which they carried on, together with the large share which they
had acquired of the lucrative commerce with the East, rendered Venice tlie
most opulent state in Europe.

The power of the Venetians was the object of terror to their Italian neigh-
bours. Their wealth was viewed with envy by the greatest monarchs, who
could not vie with many of their private citizens in the magnificence of their
buildings, in the richness of their dress and furniture, or in splendour and
elegance of living.'^ Julius II., whose ambition was superior, and his abilities
equal, to those of any pontiff" who ever sat on the papal throne, conceived
the idea of this league against the Venetians, and endeavoured, by apphdng
to those passions which I have mentioned, to persuade other princes to join

12 M^m. de Comines, lib. vii. c. 5, p. 440.

" Heliaui Oratio apud Goldastiim m Polit. Imperial, p. 980.

8ECT. II. I THE POLICY OF POPE JIJLlUS. 53

in it. By working upon the fears of the Italian powers, and upon the avarice
of several monarchs beyond the Alps, he induced them, in concurrence with
other causes, which it is not my province to explain, to form one of the most
powerful confederacies that Europe had ever beheld, against those haughty
remiblicans.

The emperor, the king of France, the kini^ of Aragon, and the pope, were
principals in the league of Cambray, to which almost all the princes of Italy
acceded, the least considerable of them hoping for some share in the spoils of
a state, which they deemed to be now devoted to destruction. The Venetians
might have diverted this storm, or have broken its force ; but with a pre-
sumptuous rashness, to which there is nothing similar in the course of their
history, they waited its approach. The impetuous valour of the French ren-
dered ineffectual all their precautions for the safety of the republic ; and the
fatal battle of Ghian-addada entirely ruined the army on which they relied for
defence, Julius seized all the towns which they held in the ecclesiastical ter-
ritories. Ferdinand re-annexed the towns of which they had got possession
on the coast of Calabria, to his Neapolitan dominions. Maximilian, at the
head of a powerful army, advanced towards Venice on the one side. The
French pushed their conquests on the other. The Venetians siUTOunded by
so many enemies, and left without one ally, sunk from the height of pre-
sumption to the depths of despair ; abandoned all their territories on the
continent ; and slmt themselves up in their capital, as their last refuge, and
the only place which they hoped to preserve.

This rapid success, however, proved fatal to the confederacy. The mem-
bers of it, whose union continued while they were engaged in seizing their
prey, be^an to feel their ancient jealousies and animosities revive, as soon as
they had a prospect of dividing it. When the Venetians observed these
symptoms of distrust and alienation, a ray of hope broke in upon them ; the
spirit natural to their councils returned; they resumed such wisdom and
firmness, as made some atonement for their former impradence and dejec-
tion; they recovered part of the temtory which they had lost ; they appeased
the pope and Ferdinand by well-timed concessions in their favour ; and at
length dissolved the confederacy, which had brought their commonwealth to
the brink of ruin.

Julius, elated with beholding the effects of a league which he liimself had
planned, and imagining that nothing was too arduous for him to undertake,
conceived the idea of expelling every foreign power out of Italy, and bent all
the force of his mind towards executing a scheme so well suited to his
enterprising genius. He directed his first attack against the Frenchj who,
on many accounts, were more odious to the Italians than any of the foreigners
who had acquired dominion in their country. By his activity and address,
he prevailed on most of the powers, who had joined in the league of Cambray,
to turn their arms against the king of France, their former ally ; and engaged
Henry VllL, who had lately ascended the throne of England, to favour their
oj)ei-ations by invading France. Louis XII. resisted all the efforts of tliis for-
midable and unexpected confederacy with undaunted fortitude. Hostilities
were carried on, during several campaigns, in Italy, on the frontiers of Spain,
and in Picardy, with alternate success. Exhausted, at length, by the variety
_ts well as extent of his operations ; unable to withstand a confederacy which
brought against him superior force, conducted with wisdom and acting with
perseverance ; Louis found it necessary to conclude separate treaties of peace
with his enemies ; and the war terminated with the loss of everything whici
the French had acquired in Italy, except the castle of Milan, aad a few incon
siderable towns in that duchy.

The various negotiations carried on during this Ijnsy period, and the different

b4} « PRELIMINAHY OBSEEVATIONS. [SECT. III.

combinatious formed among powers liitherto little connected with each other,
greatly increased that iatercourse among tlie nations of Europe, which J have
mentioned as one effect of the events in the fifteenth centurv; while the
greatness of the objects at which different nations aimed, the distant expe-
ditions which they undertook, as weU as the length and obstinacy of the con-
test in which they engaged, obliged them to exert themselves with a vigour
and perseverance unknown in the preceding ages.

Those active scenes which the following history -sviU exhibit, as well as the
variety and importance of those transactioils which distinguish the period to
which it extends, are not to be ascribed solely to the ambition, to the abilities,
^r to the rivalship of Charles Y. and of Francis I. The kingdoms of Europe
had arrived at such a degree of improvement iu the iutemal administration of
government, and princes bad acquired such command of the national force
which was to be exerted in foreign wars, that they were in a condition to
enlarge the sphere of their operations, to multiply their claims and pre-
tensions, and to increase the vigour of their efforts. Accordingly the six-
teenth century opened with the certain prospect of its abounding in great and
interesting events.

SECTION III.

VIEW OF THE POLITICAIi CONSTITUTION OP THE PRINCIPAL STATES IN EUEOPE,
AT THE COMMENCEMENT OF THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY.

Italy at the Beginning of the Sixteenth Century— The Papal Power— Alexander VI. and
Julius II. — Defects in Ecclesiastical Governments — Venice : its Rise and Progress ; its
Naval Power and its Commerce — Florence — Naples and Sicily — Contest for its Crown
— Duchy of Milan — Ludovico Sforza — Spain, conquered by the Vandals and by the
Moors ; gradually reconquered by the Christians — Marriage of Ferdinand and Isabella
— The Royal Prerogative — Constitution of Aragon and of Castile — Internal Disorders
— " The Holy Brotherhood" — France : its Constitution and Government — The Power
of its Early Kings — Government becomes purely Monarchical, though restrained by
the Nobles and the Parliament — The German Empire— Power of the Nobles and of
the Clergy — Contests between the Popes and the Emperors — Decline of Imperial Au-
thority— Total Change of Government — Maximilian — The real Power and Revenues of
the Emperors contrasted with their Pretensions — Complication of Difficulties — Origin
of the Turkish Empire ; its Character — The Janizaries — Solyman.

Having thus enumerated the principal causes and events, the influence of
which was felt in every part of Europe, and contributed either to improve
internal order and police in its various states, or to enlarge the sphere of
their activity, by giving them more entire command of the force with which
foreign operations are carried on ; nothing farther seems requisite for pre-
paring my readers to enter, with full information, upon perusing the history
of Charles V.^ but to give a view of the political constitution»_ and form of
civil government in each of the nations which acted any considerable part
'during that period. Eor as the institutions and events which I have endea-
voured to illustrate, formed the people of Europe to resemble each other, and
conducted them from barbarism to refinement, m the same path, and by nearly

SECT. ni. I ITALY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. 55

equal steps ; there \vere other circumstances which occasioned a difference
m their political establishments, and gave rise to those peculiar modes of
govermnent, which have produced such variety in the character and genius
of nations.

It is no less necessary to become acquainted with the latter, than to have
(contemplated the former. Without a distinct knowledge of the peculiar form
:md genius of civil government in each state, a great part of its transactions
must appear altogether mysterious and inexplicable. The historians of par-
! icular countries, as they seldom extended their views farther than to the
amusement or instruction of their fellow-citizens, by whom they might pre-
sume tliat all their domestic customs and institutions were perfectly under-
stood, have often neglected to descend into such details with respect to
these, as ai-e sullicient to convev to foreigners full light and information
concerning the occuiTcnces which they relate. But a history, which com-
prehends the transactions of so many different countries, would be extremely
i^nperfect, without a previous survey of the constitution and political state
of each. It is from Ins knowledge of these, that the reader must draw those
principles, which w^ill enable him to judge with discernment, and to decide
with certainty, concerning the conduct of nations.

A minute (ietail, however, of the peculiar forms and regulations in every
country, would lead to deductions of immeasurable length. To sketch out
the great lines which distinguish and characterise each government, is all
that the nature of my present work will admit of, and all that is necessary
to illustrate the events which it records.

At the opening of the sixteenth century, the political aspect of Italy was
extreme!}- different from that of any other part of Europe. Instead of those
exten - ' < 'liies. which occupied the rest of the continent, that delightful

couut. elled out amon^ many small states, each of which possess^^

?' - .11 independent jurisdiction. The only monarchy in Italy was that

Tlie dominion of the popes was'of a" peculiar species, to which
1: iiothing similar either in ancient or modem times. In Vemce

Iloreuce, and Genoa, a republican form of government was establishea.
Milan was subject to sovereigns, who had assumed no higher title than thai.
of dukes.

The pope was the first of these powers in dignity, and not the least con
siderable by the extent of his territories. In the primitive church, the juris-
diction of bishops was equal and co-ordinate. They derived, perhaps, some
degree of consideration from the dignity of the see in wliich they presided.
They possessed, however, no real authority or j)re-eminence, but what they
acquired by superior abilities, or superior sanctity. As Rome had so long
been the «eat of empire, and the capital of the world, its bfehops were on that
account entitled to respect ; they received it ; but during several ages they
received and even claimed nothing more. Erom these humble beginnings, they
advanced with such adventurous and weU-directed ambition, that they esta- x
blished a spiritual dominion over the minds and sentiments of men, to which '''^
all Europe submitted with implicit obedience. Then* claim of universal juris-
diction, as heads of the church, and their pretensions to infalUbility in their
decisions, as successors of St. Peter, are as chimerical as they are repugnant
to tlie genius of the Christian religion. But on these foundations the super-
stition and credulity of mankind enabled them to erect ar. amazing super-
structure. In all ecclesiastical controversies, their decisions were received
as the mfallible oracles of truth. Nor was the plenitude of their power con-
fined solely to what was sphitual ; they detlu'oned monaichs \ disposed of
crowns; absolved subjects irom the obedience due to their sovereigns: and
laid kingdoms luider interdicts. There was not a state m Europe \vliicu had

56 THE PAPAL POWER. fSECT. lU.

not been disquieted by their ambition ; there was not a throne which they had
not shaken ; nor a prince who did not tremble at their power.

Nothing was \yanting to render this empire absolute, and to establish it on
the ruins of all civil authority, but that the popes should have possessed such
a degree of temporal power, as was sufficient to second and enforce their
spiritual decrees. Happily for mankind, at the time when their spiritual
jurisdiction was most extensive and most revered, their secular domimon was
extremely limited. They were powerful pontiff's, formidable at a distance ;
but they were petty princes, without any considerable domestic force. They
had early endeavoured, indeed, to acquire territory by arts similar to those
which they had employed in extending their spiritual jurisdiction. Under
pretence of a donation from Constantino, and of another from Charlemagne
or his father Pepin, they attempted to take possession of some towns ad-
jacent to Rome. But these donations were fictitious, and ayailed them little.
The benefactions, for which they were indebted to the credulity of the Norman
adventurers, who conquered Naples, and to the superstition of the Countess
Matilda, were real, and added ample domains to the holy see.

But the ppwer of the popes did not increase in^^IQPo^^tion to thejextent of
territory whiclTthey had^acquifed".\'Iirthe domimons annexed to tEelioIy see,
as well as in those subject to other princes in Italy, the sovereign of a state
was far from having the command of a force which it contained. Durrag the
turbulence and confusion of the middle ages, the powerful nobility^' or leaders
of pupularTactions in Italyj.liads'dzeit the government of different towns ;
aiid,^ after sTrengthening their Fortifications, and taking a, body of mercenaries
ihto_J3a^they afiplred~at independence. The^ territory w1iiclrthje_ church had
gamed wasliIle3mth'"pettyTbrds (^ pope'Tiardly the

shadow of dominion. \ ~ -~~ \

As these usurpations almost anniliilatcd the papal power in the greater
piirt of the towns subject to the church, the Roman barons frequently disputed
the authority of the popes, even in Rome itself. In the twelfth century, an
opinion be^an to be propagated, " That as the function of ecclesiastics was
purely spiritual, they ought to possess no property, and to claim no temporal
jurisdiction ; but, according to the laudable example of their predecessors
in the primitive church, should subsist wholly upon their tithes, or upon the
voluntary oblations of the people."^ This doctrine being addrd'iSsed to men
who had beheld the scandalous manner in whijali-the avarice and ambition of
the clergy had prompted them to contend for wealth, and to exercise power,
they listened to it with fond attention. The Roman barons, who had felt
most sensibly the rigour of ecclesiastical oppression, adopted these senti-
ments with such ardour, that they set themselves instantly to shake off the
yoke [1143]. They endeavoured to restore some image of th^jr ancient
liberty, by reviving the institution of the Roman senate, in which they vested
supreme authority ; committing the executive power sometimes to one chief
senator, sometimes to two, and sometimes to a magistrate dignified with the
name of The Patrician. The popes exerted them with vigour, in order to
check this dangerous encroachment hn their jurisdiction. One of them,
finding all his endeavours ineffectual, was so mortified, that extreme grief
cut short his days. Another, having" ventured to attack the senators at the
head of some armed men, was mortally wounded in the fray.^ During a con-
siderable period, the power of the popes, before which the greatest monarchs
in Europe trembled, was circumscribed within such nan-ow limits in their

'- Otto Frisingensis de Gestis Frider. Imp. lib. ii. cap. 10.

2 Otto Frising. Chron. lib. vii. cap. 27, 31. Id. de Gest. Frid. lib. i. c. 27. Muratori,
Annali d'ltalia, vol. ix. 398, 404.

m:CT. 111.] ENCROACHMENTS ON THE PAPAL SOVEREIGNTl'. 57

own capital, that they durst hardly exert any act of authority without the
permission aiid concurrence of the senate.

Encroachments were made upon the papal sovereignty, not only b^ the
usurpations of the Koman nobility, but by the mutinous spirit of the
people. During seventy years of the fourteenth century [1308—1377], the
popes fixed their residence in Avignon. The inliabitants of Rome, accustomed
to consider themselves as the descendants of the people who had conquered
the world, and had given laws to it, were too higli-spirited to submit with
patience to the delegated authority of those persons to whom the popes com-
mitted the government of the city. On many occasions they opposed the
execution ot^ the papal mandates, and on the slightest appearance of inno-
vation or oppression, they were ready to take arms in dclence of their o^vn
immunities. Towards the middle of the fourteenth century, being instigated
bv Nicholas Bienzo, a man of low birth and a seditious spirit, but of popular
oloquence and an enterprising ambition, they drove all the nobility out of the
city, established a democratical form of government, elected Rienzo tribune
of the people, and invested him with extensive authority. But though the
frantic proceedings of the tribune soon overtunied this new system ; though
the goveiTimeut of Rome was remstated in its ancient form ; yet every fresh
attack contributed to weaken the papal jurisdiction : and the turbulence of
the people concurred with the spiiit of independence among the nobility, in
circumscribing it more and more.^ Gregory YII. and other domineering
pontiffs accomplished those great things which rendered them so formidable
to the emperors with whom they contended, not by the force of their arms,
or by the extent of their power, but by the dread of their spiritual censures,
and by the etiect of their intrigues, which excited rivals, and called forth
enemies against every prince whom they wished to depress or to destroy.

Many attempts were made by the popes, not only to humble those
usurpers who lorded it over the cities in the ecclesiastical state, but to
break the turbulent spirit of the Roman people. These were long unsuccess-
ful. But at last Alexander VI., with a policy no less artful than flagitious,
subdued or extirpated most of the great Roman barons, and rendered the

fopes masters of their own dominions. The enterprising ambition of Julius
I. added conquests of no inconsiderable value to the patrimony of St. Peter.
Thus the popes, by degrees, became powerful temporal princes. Their ter-
ritories, in the age of Charles Y., were of greater extent than at "present;
their country seems to have been better cultivated as well as more populous ;
and, as tliey drew large contributions from every part of Europe, their reve-
nues far exceeded those of the neighbouring powers, and rendered them
capable of more sudden and vigorous efforts.

The genius of the papal government, however, was better adapted to the
exercise of spiritual dominion than of temporal power. With respect to the
former, ail its maxims were steady and invariable j every new pontiff adopted
the plan of liis predecessor. By education and habit, ecclesiastics were so
formed, that the character of the individual was sunk in that of the pro-
fession ; and the passions of the man were sacrificed to the interest and honour
of the order. The hands which held the reins of administration might change,
but the spirit which conducted them was always the same. While the mea-
sures of other governments fluctuated, and the objects at which they aimed
varied, the church kept one end in view ; and to this unrelaxing constancy of
pursuit it was indebted for its success in the boldest attempts ever made by
human ambition.

• Histoire Florentine de Giov. Villani, liv. xii. c. 89, 104, ap. Murat. Script. Renim ItaL
vol. xiii. Vita di Cola di Rienzo, ap. Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. iii. p. 399, &c. Hist, do
Nic. Rienzy, par M. d. Boispr^aux, p. 91 &c.

68 GENIUS OF THE PAPAL GOVERNMENT. [SECT. in.

But in their civil administration, the popes followed no such uniform or
consistent plan. There, as in other governments, the character, the passions,
and the interest of the person who had the supreme direction of aifairs, occa-
sioned a variation both in objects and measures. As few prelates reached the
summit of ecclesiastical dignitj^ until tliey were far advanced in life, a change
of masters was more frequent m the papal dominions than in other states, and
the political system was, of course, less stable and permanent. Every pope
was eager to make the most of the short period dui-ing which he had the
prospect of enjoying power, in order to aggrandize his own family, and to
attain his private ends ; and it was often the first business of his successor to
undo all that he had done, and to overturn what he had established.

As ecclesiastics were trained to pacific arts, and early initiated in the
mysteries of that policy by which the court of Rome extended or supported
its spiritual dominion, the popes, in the conduct of their temporal aifairs,
were apt to foUow the same maxims, and in all their measures were more
readj^ to employ the refinements of intrigue than the force of arms. It
was in the papal court that address and subtlety in negotiation became a
science ; and during the sixteenth century, Rome was considered as the
school in which it might be best acquired.

As the decorum of their ecclesiastical character prevented the popes from
placing themselves at the head of their armies, or from taking the command
in person of the military force in their dominions, they were afraid to arm
their subjects ; and in all their operations, whether offensive or defensive,
they trusted entirely to mercenary troops.

As their power and dominions could not descend to their posterity, the
popes were less solicitous than other princes to form or to encourage schemes
of public utility and improvement. Their tenure was only for a short life ;
present advantage was what they chiefly studied ; to squeeze and to amass,
rather than to meliorate, was their object. They erected, perhaps^ some
work of ostentation, to remain as a monument of their pontificate ; they found
it necessary, at some times, to establish useful institutions, in order to soothe
and silence the tui-bulent populace of Rome ; but plans of general benefit of
their subjects, framed with a view to futurity, were rarely objects of attention
in the papal poKcy. The patrimony of St. Peter was worse governed than
a,ny part of Europe; and though a generous pontiff might suspend for a
little, or counteract the effects of those vices wliich are peculiar to the ad-
ministration of ecclesiastics, the disease not only remained without remedy,
but has gone on increasing from age to age ; and the decline of the state has
kept pace with its progress.

One circumstance farther, concerning the papal government, is so singidar
as to merit attention. As the spiritual supremacy and temporal power were
united in one person, and uniformly aided each other in their operations,
they became so blended together that it was difficult to separate them, even
in imagination. The potentates who found it necessary to oppose the mea-
sures which the popes pursued as temporal princes, could not easily divest
themselves of the reverence which they imagined to be due to them as
heads of the church and vicars of Jesus Christ. It was \vith reluctance that
they could be brought to a rupture with the head of the church ; they were
unwilling to push their operations against him to extremity ; they listened
eagerly to the first overtures of accommodation, and were anxious to procure
it almost upon any terms. Their consciousness of this encoui-a^ed the enter-
prising pontiffs, who filled the papal throne about the beginning of the
sixteenth century, to engage in schemes seemingly the most extravagant.
They trusted that if their temporal power was not suflBcient to carry them
through with success, the respect paid to their spiritual dignity \-\^ould enable

SECT, nij TIIE VENETIAN COMMONWEALTH. 59

them to extricate themselves with facility and with honour.* But when popes
came to take part more frequently iu the contests amon^ princes, and to
engage as principals or auxiliaries m every war kindled in Europe, tnis vene-
ration for their sacred character began to abate ; and striking mstances will
occur in the folloAving history of its being almost totally extinct.

Of all the Italian powers, the republic of Venice, next to the papal see,
was most connected with the rest of Europe. The rise of that common-
wealth, during the inroads of the Huns in the fifth centurj^ : the singular
situation of its capital in the small isles of the Adriatic Gull ; and the more
singular form of its civil constitution, are generally known. If we view the
Venetian govenmient as calculated for the order of nobles alone, its institu-
tions may be pronounced excellent ; the deliberative, legislative, and executive
powers, are so admirably distributed and adjusted, that it must be regarded
as a perfect model of political wisdom. But if _we consider it as formed for
a numerous body of people subject to its jmisdiction, it will appear a rigid
and partial aristocracy, which lodges aR power in the hands of a few members
of the community, while it degrades and oppresses the rest.

The spu'it of government, in a commonwealth of this species, was, of
coui-se, timid and jealous. The Venetian nobles distrusted their own sub-
jects, and were afraid of allowing them the use of arms. They encouraged
among them arts of industry and commerce ; they emi)loyed them in manu-
factua-es and in navigation ; but never admitted them into the troops which
the state kept in its pay. The military force of the republic consisted entirely
of foreign mercenaries. The command of these was never trusted to noble
Venetians, lest they should acquire such influence over the army as might en-
danger the public liberty; or become accustomed to the exercise of such
power, as would make them unwilling to return to the condition of private
citizens. A soldier of fortune was placed at the head of the armies of the
commonwealth; and to obtain that honour was the great object of the Italian
condottieri, or leaders of bauds, who, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries,
made a trade of war, and raised and hired out soldiers to different states.
But the same suspicious policy, which induced the Venetians to employ these
adventurers, prevented their placing entire confidence in them. Two noble-
men, appointed by the senate, accompanied their army when it took the field,
with the appellation of proveditori, and, like the field deputies of the Dutch
republic in later times, observed aU the motions of the general, and checked
and controlled him iu all his operations.

A commonwealth, with such civil and military institutions, was not formed
to make conquests. While its subjects were disarmed, and its nobles ex-

♦ The manner in which Louis XII. of France undertook and carried on war against
Julius II, remarkably illustrates this observation. Louis solemnly consulted the clergy
of France, whether it was lawful to take arms against a pope who had wantonly kindled
war in Europe, aiad whom neither the faith of treaties, nor gratitude for favours re-
ceived, nor the decorum of his character, could restrain from the most violent actions
to which the lust of power prompts ambitious princes. Though his clergy authorized
the war, yet Anne of Bretagne, his queen, entertained scruples with regard to the law-
fulness of it. The king himself, from some superstition of the same kind, carried it on
faintly ; and, upon every fresh advantage, renewed his propositions of peace. Mezeray,
Hist, de France, fol. edit. 1685, tom. i. 852. I shall produce another proof of this
reverence for the papal character, still more striking. Guicciardini, the most sagacious,
perhaps, of all modern historians, and the boldest in painting the vices and ambition of
the popes, represents the death of Migliau, a Spanish officer, who was killed during th«
siege of Naples, as a punishment inflicted on him by Heaven, on account of his having
opposed the setting of Clement VII. at liberty. Guic. Istoria d' Italia. Genev. 1646,
vol. ii. lib. 18, p. 467.

60 FLORENCE. [SECT, IH.

eluded from military command, it carried on its warlike enterprises with
great disadvantage. This ouglit to have taught the Venetians to rest satisfied
with making self-preservation, and the enjoyment of domestic security, the
objects of their policy. But republics are apt to be seduced by the sj)irit of
ambition, as well as kings. "When the Venetians so far forgot the interior
defects in their government, as to aim at extensive conquests, the fatal blow
which they received in the war, excited by the lea^e of Cambray, convinced
them of the imprudence and danger of makmg violent efforts in opposition to
the genius and tendency of their constitution.

It is not, however, by its military, but by its naval and commercial power,
that the importance of the Venetian commonwealth must be estimated. The
latter constituted the real force and nerves of the state. The jealousy of
government did not extend to this department. Nothing was apprehended
from this quarter that could prove formidable to liberty. The senate en-
couraged the nobles to trade, and to serve on board the fleet. They be-
came merchants and admirals. They increased the wealth of their country by
their industry. They added to its dominions, by the valour with which they
conducted its naval armaments.

Commerce was an inexhaustible source of opulence to the Venetians. All
the nations in Europe depended upon them, not only for the commodities
of the East, but for various manufactm-es fabricated by them alone, or
finished with a dexterity and elegance unknown in other countries. From
this extensive commerce, the state derived such immense supplies, as con-
cealed those vices in its constitution which I have mentioned ; and enabled
it to keep on foot such armies, as were not only an over-match for the force
which any of its neighbours could bring into the field, but were sufficient
to contend, for some time, with the powerful monarchs beyond the Alps.
During its struggles with the princes united against it by the league at
Cambray, the republic levied suras which, even in the present age, would
be deemed considerable ; and while the king of France paid the exorbitant
interest which I have mentioned for the money advanced to him, and the
emperor, eager to borrow, but destitute of credit, was known by the name
oi Maximilian the moneyless, i\\e Venetians raised whatever sums they pleased,
at the moderate premium of five in the hundred.^

The constitution of Florence was perfectly the reverse of the Venetian.
It partook as much of democratical turbulence and hcentiousness, as the
other of aristocratical rigour. Florence, however, was a commercial, not a
miUtary democracy. The nature of its institutions was favourable to com-
merce, and the genius of the people was turned towards it. The vast wealth
which the family of Medici had acquired by trade, together with the mag-
nificence, the generosity, and the virtue of the first Cosmo, gave him such an
ascendant over the affections as well as the councils of his countrymen, that
though the forms of popular govermnent were preserved, though the various
departments of administration were filled by magistrates distinguished by
the ancient names, and elected in the usual maimer, he was in reality the
head of the commonwealth ; and in the station of a private citizen, he pos-
sessed supreme authority. Cosmo transmitted a considerable degree of this
power to his descendants ; and during the greater part of the fifteenth cen-
tury the political state of Florence was extremely singular. The appearance
of republican government subsisted, the people were passionately attached
to it, and on some occasions contended warmly for their privileges; and
yet they permitted a single family to assume the dii-ection of their affairs,

* Hist, de la Ligne fiiite h. Cambray, par M. I'Abbd du Bos, liv. v. Sandi, Stona
Civile Veneziana, liv. viii. c. 16, p. 891, &c.

SECT. III.J NAPLES AND SICILY. d

line

i

almost as absolutely as if it had been formally invested with sovereign power.
The jealousy of the Medici concurjed witli the commercial spirit of theFloren-
liiies, in putting the military force of the republic upon the same footing with
at of the other Italian states. The troops which the Elorentines employed
their wars consisted almost entirely ol mercenary soldiers, furnished by
e condottieri. or leaders of bands, whom they took into tlieir pay.
In the kingdom of Naples, to which the sovereignty of the island of Sicily
annexed, the feudal government was established in the same form, and
with the same defects, as in the other nations of Europe. The frequent and
violent revolutions which happened in that monarchy had considerably in-
creased these defects, and rendered them more intolerable. The succession
to the crown of Naples had been so often interrupted or altered, and so
Miany princes of foreign blood had, at different periods, obtained possession
if the throne, that the Neapolitan nobility had lost, in a great measure, that
ittachment to the family of their sovereigns, as well as that reverence for
iheir persons, which, in other feudal kingdoms, contributed to set some
bounds to the encroachments of the barons upon the royal prerogative and
power. At the same time, the different pretenders to the crown, being
obliged to court the barons who adhered to them, and on whose supi)ort they
depended for the success of their claims, they augmented their privileges by
liberal concessions, and connived at their boldest usurpations. Even when
seated on the throne, it was dangerous for a prince, who held his sceptre
by a disputed title, to ventui-e on any step towards extending his own
power, or circumscribing that of the nobles.

From all these causes, the kingdom of Naples was the most turbulent of
any in Europe, and the authority of its monarchs the least extensive. Though
Ferdinand 1., who be^an his reign in the year one thousand four hundred and
-ixtv-eight, attempted to break the power of the aristocracy ; though his son
Vlphonso, that he might crush it at once by cutting off the leaders of greatest
cputation and influence among the Neap9litan barons, ventured to commit
ue of the most perfidious and cruel actions recorded in history [1487] ;
I he order of nobles was nevertheless more exasperated than humbled by
their measures.'' The resentment which these outrages excited was so vio-
lent, and the power of the malecontent nobles was stiU so formidable, that
) these may be ascribed, in a ^reat degree, the ease and rapidity with which
vJharles YIII. conquered the kingdom of Naples."

The event that gave rise to the violent contests concerning the succession

: C) tiie crown of Naples and Sicily, which brought so many calamities upon

;liese kingdoms, happened in the thirteenth century. Upon the death of

! he emperor Frederic II,, Manfred, his natural son, aspiring to the Neapolitan

ihrone, murdered his brother, the emperor Conrad [1254] (if we may believe

ontemporary historians), and by thac crune obtained possession of it.* The

fopes, troni their implacable enmity to the house of Swabia, not only refused

i) recognise Manfred's title, but endeavoured to excite against him some

'.ill capable of wresting the sceptre out of his hand. Charles, count of

\njou, the brother of St, Louis, king of France, undertook this; and he

.:ccived from the popes the investiture of the kingdom of Naples and SicUy

ts a fief held of the holy see. The count "of Anjou's efforts were crowned

\ ith success; Manfred fell in battle- and he took possession of the vacant

iirone. But soon after, Charles sulhed the glory which he had acquired, by

lie injustice and cruelty with which he put to death, by the hands of the execu-

iouer, Conradin, the last prince of the house of Swabia, and the rightful heir

• Giannone, book xxviii. ch. 2, vol. ii. p. 410, &c. ^ Ibid. p. 414.

• Struv. Corp. Hist. Germ. L 481. Giaunone, book xvili. ch. 6.

62: CONTEST FOIl THE NEAPOLITAN CROWN. [SECT. in.

of the Neapolitan crown. That gallant young prince asserted his title, to
the last, with a courage worthy of a better fate. On the scaffold, he declared
Peter, at that time prince, and soon after king of Aragon, who had married
Manfred's only daughter, his heir ; and throwing liis glove among the people,
he entreated that it might be carried to Peter, as the symbol by which he con-
veyed all his rights to him." The desire cf avenging the insult offered to
royalty,_ by the death of Conradin, concurred with his own ambition, in
promptiag Peter to take arms in support of the title which he had acquired.
Prom that period,^ during almost two centuries, the houses of Aragon and
Anjou contended for the crown of Naples. Amidst a succession of revolutions
more rapid, as well as of crimes more atrocious, than what occur in the
history of almost any other kingdom, monarchs, sometimes of the Ara-
gonese line, and _ sometimes of the Angevin, were seated on the throne.
At length the princes of the house of Aragon obtained [1434] such firm
possession of this lon^-disputed iaheritance, that they transmitted it quietly
to a bastard branch o± then- family. ^"^

The race of the Angevin kings, however, was not extinct ; nor had they
relinquished their title to the Neapohtan crown. The count of Maine and
Provence, the heir of this family, conveyed all his rights and pretensions to
Louis XI. and to his successors. Charles VIII., as I have already related,
crossed the Alps at the head of a powerful army [1494], hi order to prosecute
his claim with a degree of vigour far superior to that which the princes from
whom he derived it had been capable of exerting. The rapid progress of his
arms in Italy, as weB. as the short time during which he enjoyed the fruits of
his success, have already been mentioned, and are well known. Prederic, the
heir of the illegitimate branch of the Aragonese family, soon recovered the
throne of which Charles had dispossessed him. Louis XII. and Perdiaand
of Aragon united against this prince, whom both, though for different reasons,
considered as an usurper, and agreed to divide his dominions between them
[1501]. Prederic, unable to resist the combined monarchs, each of whom
was far his superior in power, resigned his sceptre. Louis and Perdinand,
though they had concurred in making the conquest, differed about the division
of it ; and from allies became enemies. But Gonsalvo de Cordova, partly by
the exertion of such military talents as gave him a just title to the appellation
of the Gi-eat Captain, which the Spanish historians have bestowed upon him ;
and partly by such shameless and frequent _ violations of the most solemn
engagements, as leave an indelible stain on his memory ; stripped the Prench
of all that they possessed in the Neapolitan dominions, and secured the
peaceable possession of them to his master. These, together with his other
kingdoms, Perdinand transmitted to his grandson Charles Y., whose right
to possess them, if not altogether incontrovertible, seems, at least, to be
as well founded as that which the kings of Prance set up in opposition to it."

There is nothing in the political constitution, or interior government of the
duchy of Milan, so remarkable as to requhe a particular explanation. But as
the right of succession to that fertile province was the cause or the pretext
of almost all the wars carried on in Italy during the reign of Charles V., it
is necessary to trace these disputes to their source, and to inquire into the
pretensions of the various competitors.

During the long and fierce contests excited in Italy by the violence of
the Guelph and Uhibelline factions, the family of Yisconti rose to great
eminence among their feUow-citizens of Milan. As the Yisconti had adhered

« Giannone, book xix. ch. 4, § 2. i" Ibid, book xxvi. ch. 2.

*i Droits des Kois de France au Koyaume de Sicile. M^m. de Comin. edit, de Fresnoy,
torn. iv. part. ii. p. 6.

SECT. III.] DUCUY 0¥ MILAN. 63

unifonnly to the Ghibelline or imperial interest, they, by way of recompense,
received from one emperor the dignity of perpetual vicars of the empire in
Italy [1354] ;" they were created by another duke of iMilan [1395] ; and,
together with that title, the possesGion of the city and its territories was be-
stowed upon them as an hercditaiy lief.'^ John, king of France, among
other expedients for raising money, wliich the caJamitics of his reign ob-
liged Mm to employ, condescended to give one of his daughters in marriage
to John Galeazzo Visconti, the first duke of Milan, from \yhom he had
received considerable sums. Valentine Visconti, one of the children of tliis
mamage, married her cousin, Louis, duke of Orleans, the only brother of
Charles VI. In their marriage-contract, which the pope confirmed, it was
stipulated that, upon failure of heirs male in the tamily of Visconti, the
duchy of ]\Iilan should descend to the posterity of Valentine and the duke
of Orleans. That event took place. In the yeai* one thousand four hundred
and forty-seven, Philip Maria, the last prince of the ducal family of Visconti,
died. Various competitors claimed the succession, Charles, duke of Orleans,
pleaded his right to it, founded on the marriage-contract of his mother,
ValentLue Visconti. Alfonso, kin^ of Naples, claimed it in consequence of a
will made by Philip Maria in his favour. The emperor contended that, upon
the extinction of male issue in the family of Visconti, the fief returned to the
superior lord, and ought to be re-annexed to the empire. The people of
Muan, smitten with the love of liberty which in that age prevailed among the
Italian states, declared against the donunion of any master, and established
a republican form of government.

But during the straggle among so many competitors, the prize for which
they contended was seized by one from whom none of them apprehended any
dai^er. Prancis Sforza, the natural son of Jacomuzzo Sforza, whom his
courage and abilities had elevated from the rank of a peasant to be one of
the most eminent and powerful of the Italian condottieri, having succeeded
his father in the command of the adventurers who followed his standard,
had married a natural daughter of the last duke of j\Iilan. Upon this shadow
of a title Francis founded liis pretensions to the duchy, which he supported
with such talents and valour as placed him at last on the ducal throne. The
virtues, as well as abiKties, witli wliich he governed, inducing his subjects
to forget the defects in his title, he transmitted his dominions quietly to his
son, from whom they descended to his grandson. He was murdered by his
grand-uncle, Ludovico, suraamed the Moor, who took possession of the duchy ;
and his right to it was confirmed by the investiture of the emperor Maximilian,
in the year one thousand four hundred and niaetv-four.^*

Louis XI., who took pleasure in depressing the princes of the blood, and
who admired the political abilities of Francis Sforza, W9uld not permit the
duke of Orleans to take any step in prosecution of his right to the duchy of
Milan. Ludovico the Moor kept up such a close connexion with Charles
VIII., that, during the greater part of his reign, the claim of the famdy of
Orleans continued to lie dormant. But when the crowTi of France devolved
on Louis XII., duke of Orleans, he instantly asserted the rights of his family
^vith the ardour which it was natural to expect, and mai-ched at the head of a
powerful army to support them. Ludo\dco Sforza, iucapable of contending
with such a rival, was stripped of all his dominions in the space of a few
days. The king, clad in the ducal robes, entered Milan in triumph; and

" Petrarch. Epist. ap. Strav. Corp. i. p. 625.
" Leibnit. CoJ. Jar. Gent. Drplom. vol. i. p. 257.

'* Ripalm. Hist. MedioL lib. VL 654, ap. Struv. Corp. i. 930. Da Mont, Corps Diplom.
torn. iii. p. ii. 333, ibid.

64 THE SPANISH MONAJaCHY. fSECT. ni.

soon after, Ludovico, having been betrayed by the Swiss in his pay was seni
a prisoner into Erance, and shut up in the castle of Loches, where he lay un-
pitied during the remainder of his days. In consequence of one of the
singular revolutions which occur so frequently in the history of the Milanese,
his son, Maximilian Sforza, was placed on the ducal throne, of which he
kept possession during the reign of Louis XII. [1512.] But his successor,
Francis I., was too high-spirited and enterprising tamely to relinquish his
title. As soon as he was seated upon the throne, he prepared to invade
the Milanese; and his right of succession to it appears, from tliis detail,
to have been more natui-al and more just than that of any other competitor.
It is unnecessary to enter into any detail with respect to the form of

fovernment in Genoa, Parma, Modena, and the other inferior states of Italy,
heir names, indeed, will often occur in the foDowing history. But the
power of these states themselves was so inconsiderable, that their fate
depended little upon their own efforts; and the frequent revolutions which
they underwent were brought about rather by the operations of the princes
wlio attacked or defended them, than by auytliing peculiar in their internal
constitution.

Of the great kingdoms on this side of the Alps, Spain is one of the most
considerable ; and as it was the hereditary domain of Charles V., as well
as the chief source of his power and wealth, a distinct knowledge of its
political constitution is of capital importance towards understanding the
transactions of his reign.

The Vandals and Goths, who overturned the Boman power in Spain,
established a form of govermnent in that country, and introduced customs
and laws, perfectly similar to those which were established in the rest of
Europe by the other victorious tribes which acquired settlements there. Por
some time society advanced, among the new inhabitants of Spain, by the
same steps, and seemed to hold the same course, as in other European
nations [712]. To this progess, a sudden stop was put by the invasion of
the Saracens or Moors from Africa. The Goths could not withstand the
efforts of their enthusiastic valour, which subdued the greatest part of Spain,
with the same impetuous rapidity that distinguishes all the operations of their
arms. The conquerors introduced into the country in which they settled, the
Mahometan rehgion, the Arabic language, the manners of the East, together
with that taste for the arts, and that love of elegance and splendour, which
the caliphs had begun to cultivate among their subjects'".

Such Gothic nobles as disdained to submit to the Moorish yoke, fled for
refuge to the inaccessible mountains of Asturias. There they comforted
themselves, with enjoying the exercise of the Christian religion, and with
maintaining the authority of their ancient laws. Being joined by many of
the boldest and most warlike among their countrymen, they saUied out upon
the adjacent settlements of the Moors in small parties ; but venturing only
upon short excursions at first, they were satisfiea with plunder and revenge,
without thinking of conquest. By degrees their strength increased, their
views enlarged, a regular government was established among them, and they
began to aim at extending their territories. While they pushed on their
attacks with the unremitting ardour excited bv zeal for rehgion, by the desire
of vengeance, and by the hope of rescuing their country from oppression^
while tii<;y conducted their operations with the courage natural to men who
had no other occupation but war, and who were strangers to all the arts
■«*rhich corrupt or enfeeble the mind, the Moors gradually lost many of the
advantages to which they had been indebted for their first success. Tliey
threw off all dependence on the caKphs ; ^^ they neglected to preserve a

*5 Jos. Sim. Assemani Histor Ital. Scriptorea vol iii. p. 135.

SECT. III.J rOLITICAX CONSTITUTION OF SPAIN. OS

close connexion with their countrymen in Africa ; their cmnire in Spain was
split into many small kingdoms ; the arts which they cultivated, together
with tlie luxury to which thesb gave rise, relaxed, in some measure, the force
of their military institutions, and abated the vigour of their warlike spirit.
The Moors, however, continued still to be a gallant people, and possessed
great resources. According to the magnificent style of tne Spanish historians,
eight centuries of almost uninteiTupted war elapsed, ana three thousand
seven hundred battles were fought, before the last of the Moorish kingdoms
in Spain submitted to the Christian arms [1492].

As the Christians niadc their conquests upon the Mahometans at various
periods, and under diiferent leaders, each formed the territory which he had
wrested from the common enemy into an independent state. Spam was
divided into almost as many separate kmgdoms as it contained provinces;
in each city of note a petty monarch established his throne, and assumed
all the ensigns of royalty. In a series of years, however, by the usual events
of intermarriages or succession, or conquest, all these inferior principalities
were annexed to the more powerful kingdoms of CastUe and of Aragon. At
length, by the fortunate marriage of Ferdinand and Isabella [14:81], the former
the liereditary monarch of Aragon, and the latter raised to the throne of
Castile by the affection of her subjects, all the Spanish crowns were united,
and descended in the same line.

Prom this period, the political constitution of Spain began to assume a
regular and uniform appearance ; the genius of its government may be de-
lineated, and the progress of its laws and manners may be traced, with
certainty. Notwithstanding the singular revolution which the invasion of
the Moors occasioned m Spain, and the peculiarity of its fate, in being so
long subject to the Mahometan yoke, the customs introduced by the Vandals
and Goths had taken such deep root, and were so thoroughly incorporated
with the frame of its government, that in every province wliich the Christians
recovered from the Moors, we fmd the condition of individuals, as well as the
poUtical constitution, nearly .the same as in other nations of Europe. Lands
were held by the same tenure ; justice was dispensed in the same form ;
the same pri\^eges were claimed by the nobility, and the same power exercised
by the cortes, or general assembly of the kingdom. Several circumstances
contributed to secure this permanence of the feudal institutions in Spain,
notwithstanding the conquest of the Moors, which seemed to have overtm-ned
them. Such of the Spaniards as preserved their independence adhered to their
ancient customs, not only from attachment to them, but out of antipathy to-
the Moors, to whose ideas concerning property and government these customs
were totally repugnant. Even among the Christians, who submitted to the
Moorish conquerors, and consented to become their subjects, ancient customs
were not entirely abolished. They were permitted to retain their religion, their
laws concerning private property, their forms of administering justice, and
their mode of levying taxes. The followers of Mahomet are the only enthu-
siasts who have united the spirit of toleration with zeal for making proselj-tes,.
and who, at the same time that they took arms to propagate the doctrine of
their propliet, permitted such as would not embrace it to adhere to their own
tenets, and to praclicc their own rites. To this peculiarity in the genius of
the Mahometan religion, as well as to the desu-e which the Moors hacl of
reconciling the Christians to their yoke, it was owing that the ancient
manners and laws in Spain survived the violent shock of a conquest, and
were permitted to_ subsist, notwithstanding the mtroduetion of a new religion,
and a new form of government into that country. It is obvious, from all these
particulars, that the Christians must have found it extremely easy to re-
establish raannei-s and government on theii* ancient foundations, in tlioee

66 ABAGON AND CASTILE. [SEJJT. IH.

provinces of Spain which they wrested successively from the Moors. A
considerable part of the people retained such a fondness for the customs,
and such a reverence for the laws of their aitcestors, that, wishing to see
them completely restored, they were not only willing but eager to resume the
former, and to recognize the authority of the latter.

But though the feudal form of government, with aU tiie institutions which
characterise it, was thus preserved entire in Castile and Aragon, as well as in
all the kingdoms which depended on these crowns, there were certain pecu-
liarities in their political constitutions which distinguish them from those
of any other country in Europe. The royal prerogative, extremely lunited in
every feudal kingdom, was circumscribed in Spain within such narrow bounds
as reduced the power of the sovereign almost to nothing. The privileges
of the nobility were great in proportion, and extended so far, as to border
on absolute independence. The immunities of the cities were likewise greater
than in other feudal kingdoms ; they possessed considerable influence in the
cortes, and they aspired at obtaining more. Such a state of society, in which
the political machine was so ill adjusted, and the several members of the
legislature so improperly balanced, produced internal disorders in the king-
doms of Spain, which rose beyond the pitch of turbulence and anarchy usual
under the feudal government. The whole tenor of the Spanish history con-
firms the truth of this observation ; and when the mutinous spirit, to which
the genius of their i)olicy gave birth and vigour, was no longer restrained
and overawed by the immediate dread of the Moorish arms, it broke out into
more frequent insurrections against the government of their princes, as well
as more outrageous' insists on their dignity, than occur in the annals of
any other country. These were accompanied at some times with more liberal
sentiments concerning the rights of the people, at other times with more
elevated notions concerning the privileges of the nobles, than were common
in other nations.

In the principality of Catalonia, which was annexed to the kingdom of
Aragon, the impatience of the people to obtain a redress of their grievances
having prompted them to take arms against their sovereign, John II. [1462],
thev, Dy a solemn deed, recalled the oath of allegiance which they had sworn
to him, declared him and his posterity to be unworthy of the throne,^'' and
•endeavoured to establish a republican form of government, in order to secure
the perpetual enjoyment of that liberty after which they aspired." Nearly
about the same period, the indignation of the Castilian nobility against the
"weak and flagitious administration of Henry lY. having led them to combine
against him, they arrogated, as one of the privileges belonging to their order,
the right of trying and of passing sentence on their sovereign. That the
exercise of this power might be as public and 'solemn as the pretension to
it was bold, they summoned all the nobility of their party to meet at Avila
[1465] ; a spacious theatre was erected in a plain without the walls of the
town; an image representing the king was seated on a throne, clad in
royal robes, with a crown on its head, a sceptre in its hand, and the sword
of justice by its side. The accusation _ against the king was read, and the
sentence of deposition was pronounced in presence of a numerous assembly.
At the close of the first article of the charge, the Archbishop of Toledo ad-
vanced and tore the crown from the head of the image ; at the close of the
second, the Conde de Placentia snatched the sword of justice from its side ;
at the close of the third, the Conde de Benevente wrested the soeptre from

>' Zurita, Annales de Arag. torn. iv. 113, 115, &c.

»' Ferrera, Hist. d'Espagne, torn. vii. p. 92. P. Orleans, R^vol. d'Espagne, torn, ilL p.
15&. L. Marinaeus Siculus, de Reb. Hispan. apud Schotti Script. Hisp. foi. 429.

m

SECT. III.J THE POLITICAL CONSTITUTION OP AIU.GON. 9t

its hand ; at tlie close of the last, Don Diego Lopez de Stuniga tumbled it
hcucllong from the throne. At the same instant Don Alfonzo, Henry's brother,
was proclaimed Kin>r of Castile and Li;on in his stead.'*

The most daring leaders of faction would not have ventured on these
measures, nor have condueted them witli such piibhc ceremony, if the sen-
timents of the people conceniing the royal dignity had not been so formed by
the laws and pohcy to which they were accustomed botli in Castile ani
Catalonia, as prepared them to approve of such extraordinary proceedings, or
to acquiesce in them.

In Aragon tlie fonn of government was monarchical, but the genius and
maxims of it were purely republican. The kings, who were long elective,
retained only the shadow of power ; the real exercise of it was in the cortes,
or parliament of the kingdom. This supreme assembly was composed of four
different arms or members : the nobility of the first rank ; the equestrian
order, or nobiKty of the second class ; the representatives of the cities and
towns, whose right to a place in the cortes, if we may give credit to the
historians of Aragon, was coeval with the constitution; the ecclesiastical
order, composed of the dignitaries of the church, together with the repre-
sentatives of the inferior clergy." No law could pass in this assembly
without the assent of every single member who had a right to vote,-" With-
out the permission of the cortes no tax could be imposed ; no war could be'
declai-ed; no peace could be concluded; no money could be coined; nor
could any alteration be made in the current specie."^ The power of review-
ing the proceedings of all inferior courts, the privilege of inspecting every
department of adniinistration, and the right of redressing all grievances,
belonged to the cortes. Nor did those who conceived themselves to be ag-
grieved address the cortes in the humble tone of supplicants, and petition
for redress ; they demanded it as the birthright of freemen, and required the
guardians of their liberty to decide with respect to the points which they
hid before them." This sovereign court was held during several centuries
every year ; but, in consequence of a regulation introduced about the be-
ginning of the fourteenth centuiy, it was convoked from that period only
once in two years. After it was assembled, the king had no nght to pro-
rogue or dissolve it without its own consent j and the session continued forty
days.^

Not satisfied with havmg erected such fonnidable barriers against the en-
croachments of the royal prerogative, nor willing to commit the sole guardian-
ship of their liberties entirely to the vigilance and authority of an assembly
similar to the diets, states-general, and parliaments, in which the other feudal
nations have placed so much confidence, the Aragonese had recourse to an
institution peculiar to themselves, and elected a justiza, or supreme judge.
This magistrate, whose office bore some resemblance to that of the ephori in
ancient Sparta, acted as the protector of the people and the comptroller of
he prince. The person of the justiza was sacred, his power and iurisdiction

lost unbounded. He was the supreme interpreter of the laws. Not
y inferior judges, but the kings themselves, were bound to consult him in
every doubtful case, and to receive his responses with implicit deference.^*
An appeal lay to him from the royal judges, as well as from those appointed

" Marian. Hist. lib. sxsiii. ch. 9.

*' Forma de celebrar Cortes en Aragon, por Geron. Martel.
^0 Martel. Forma de Celebr. p. 2.

" Hier. Blanca, Comment. Ber. Aragon, ap. Schot. Script. Hispan. vol. iii. p. 750.
22 Martel. Forma de' Celebr. p. 2. 23 j^iej., Blanca, Comment. 763.

2* Blanca has preserved two responses of the justiza to James II., who reigneC
towards the close of the thirteenth century. Blanca, 748.

f2

68 CONSTITUTION AND GOVERNMENT [SECT HI.

by the barons mthin their respective territories. Even when no appeal was
made to him, he could interpose by his own authority, prohibit the ordinary
judge to proceed, take immediate cognisance of the cause himself, and remove
the party accused to the manifestation, or prison of the state, to which no
person had access but by his permission. His power was exerted with no
less vigour and effect in superintending the admiaistration of government,
than in regulating the course of justice. It was the prerogative of the justiza
to inspect the conduct of the king. He had a title to review all the roval
proclamations and patents, and to^ declare whether or not they were agreeable
to law, and ought to be carried into execution. He, by his sole authority,
could exclude any of the kiog's ministers from the conduct of affairs, and call
them to answer for their maladministration. He himself was accountable to
the cortes only for the mamier in which he discharged the duties of this hi^h
office, and performed functions of the greatest importance that could bo
committed to a subject.''^ (31)

It is evident from a bare enumeration of the privileges of the Aragonese
cortes, as well as of the rights belonging to the justiza, that a very small
portion of power remained in the hands of the king. The Aragonese seem
to have been solicitous that their monarchs should know and feel this state
of impotence to which they were reduced. Even in swearing alle^ance
to their sovereign, an act which ought naturally to be accompanied with pro-
fessions of submission and respect, they devised an oath in such a form as to
remind him of his dependence on his subjects. " We," said the justiza to
the king in the name of his high-spirited barons, " who are each of us as good,
and who are altogether more powerful than you, promise obedience to your
government, if you maintain our rights and liberties ; but if not, not.'' Con-
k»rmably to this oath they established it as a fundamental article in their
constitution, that if the king should violate their rights and privileges, it was
lawful for the people to disclaim him as their sovereign and to elect another,
even though a lieathenj in his placets The attachment of the Aragonese to
this smgular constitution^ of government was extreme, and their respect for
it approached to superstitious veneration. (32) In the preamble to one of
their laws they declare, that such was the barrenness of their country, and
the poverty of the inhabitants, that, if it were not on account of the liberties
by which they were distinguished from other nations, the people would
abandon it, and go in quest of a settlement to some more fruitful region.-^

In Castile there were not such peculiarities in the form of government as to
establish any remarkable distinction between it and that of the other European
nations. The executive part of government was committed to the king, but
with a prerogative extremely limited. The legislative authority resided in
the cortes, which was composed of the nobility, the dignified ecclesiastics,
and the representatives of the cities. The assembly of the cortes in Castile
was very ancient, and seems to have been almost coeval with the constitu-
tion. ^ The members of the three different orders \vho had a right of siiffrage,
me.t in one place, and deliberated as one collective body, the decisions of
which were regulated by the sentiments of the majority. The right of im-
posing taxes, of enacting laws, and of redressing grievances, belonged to this
assembly ; and, in order to secure the assent of the king to such statutes and
regulations as were deemed salutary or beneficial to the kingdom, it was
usual in the cortes to take no step towards granting money, until all busi-
ness relative to the public welfare was concluded. The representatives of
cities seem to have obtained a seat very early in the cortes of (!!astile, and

25 Hier. Blanca, Comment, pp. 747, 755.
» Ibid. p. 720. ^ ibid. p. 751.

SECT. III.] or CASTILE. fi9

soon acquired such influence an(l credit as were very uncommon^ at a period
■when the splendour and pre-eminence of the nobility had ecbpsed or de-
pressed all other orders of men. The Lumber of members from cities bore
such a proportion to that of the whole collective body, as rendered them ex
tremely respectable in the cortes. (33) The degree of consideration which
thev possessed in the state may be estunated by one event. Upon the death
of John I. [1390] a council of regency was appointed to govern the kingdom
during the minority of liis son. It was composed of an equal number of
noblemen and of deputies chosen by the cities ; the latter were admitted to
the same rank, and mvested with the same powers, as prelates and grandees
of the first order.-* But though the members of communities in Castile were
elevated above the condition wherein they were placed in other kingdoms of
Europe, though they had attained to sucn political importance, that even the
proud and jealous spirit of the feudal anstocracy could not exclude them
from a considerable share in government; yet the nobles, notwithstanding
these acquisitions of the commons, continueo. to assert the privileges of their
order, in opposition to the crown, in a tone extremely high. There was not
any body ot nobility in Europe more distinguished for independence of spirit,
haughtiness of deportment, and bold pretensions than that of Castile. The
liistory of that monarchy affords the most striking examples of the vigilance
with which they observed, and of the vigour with which they opposed, every
measure of their kings, that tended to encroach on their jurisdiction, to di-
minish their dignity, or to abridge their power. Even in their ordinary inter-
course with their monarchs they preserved such a consciousness of their rank,
that the nobles of the first order claimed it as a privilege to be covered in the
royal presence, and approached their sovereigns rather as equals than as
subjects.

The constitutions of the subordinate monarchies which depended on the
crowns of Castile and Aragon, nearly resembled those of the kingdoms to
which they were annexed. In all of them the dignity and independence of
the nobles were great ; the immunities and power of the cities were con-
siderable.

An attentive observation of the singular situation of Spain, as well as the
various events which occurred there, from the invasion of the Moors to the
union of its kingdom under Ferdinand and Isabella, will discover the causes
to which all the peculiarities in its political constitution I have pointed out,
ought to be ascribed.

As tlie provinces of Spain were wrested from tbe Mahometans gradually
and with difficulty, the nobles who followed the standard of any eminent
leader in these wars, conquered not for him alone, but for themselves. They
claimed a share in the lands wliich their valour had won from the enemy, and
their prosperity and power increased, in proportion as the territory of the
prince extended.

During their perpetual wars with the Moors, the monarchs of the several
kingdoms in Spam depended so much on their nobles, that it became neces-
sary to conciliate their goodwill by successive grants of new honom-s and
privileges. By the time tnat any prince could establish his dominion in a con-
quered province, the greater part of the territory was parcelled out by him
among his barons, with such jurisdiction and immunities as raised them al-
most to sovereign power.

At the same time, the kingdoms erected in so many different comers of
Spain were of inconsiderable extent. The petty monarch was but little
elevated above his nobles. They, feeling themselves to be almost his equals,

*« Marian. Hist. lib. xviii. cl5.

70 CAUSES or THE LIMITED AUTHORITY [SECT. Ill,

acted as sucli ; and could not look up to the kin^s of such limited domains
with the same reverence that the sovereigns of the great monarchies in
Europe were viewed by their subjects. (34)

While these circumstances concurred in exalting the nobility, and in de-
pressing the royal authority, there were other causes which raised the cities
m Spain to consideration and power.

As the open country, dui'ing the wars with the Moors, was perpetually ex-
posed to the incursions of the enemy, with whom no peace or truce was
so permanent as to prove any lasting security, setf-preservation obliged per-
sons of all ranks to fix their residence in places of strength. The castles
of the barons, which, in other countries, afforded a commodious retreat from
the depredations of banditti, or from the transient violence of any interior
commotion, were unable to resist an enemy whose operations were con-
ducted with regular and persevering vigour. Cities, in which great numbers
united for their mutual defence, were the only places in which people could
reside with any prospect of safety. To this was owing the rapid growth of
those cities in Spain of which the Christians recovered possession. All who
fled from the Moorish yoke resorted to them, as to an asylum ; and in them
the greater part of those who took the field against the Mahometans, esta-
blished their families.

Several of these cities, during a longer or shorter course of years, were the
capitals of little states, and enjoyed aU. the advantages which accelerate the
increase of inhabitants in eveiy place that is the seat of government.

^ Erom these concurring causes, the number of cities in Spain, at the be-
ginning of the fifteenth century,^ had become considerable, and they were
peopled far beyond the proportion which was common in other parts of
Eui-ope, except in Italy and the Low Countries. The Moors had introduced
manufactures into those cities, whUe under their dominion. _ The Christians,
who, by intermixture with them, had learned their arts, continued to cultivate
these. Trade, in several of the Spanish towns, appears to have been earned
on with vigour ; and the spirit of commerce continued to preserve the number
of their inhabitants, as th€ sense of danger had first induced them to crowd
together.

As the Spanish cities were populous, many of the inhabitants were of a
rank superior to those who resided in towns in other comitries of Europe.
That cause, which contributed chiefly to their population, affected equally
persons of every condition, who flocked thither promiscuously, in order to
find shelter there, or in hopes of making a stand against the enemy, with
greater advantage than in any other station. The persons elected as their re-
presentatives in the cortes by the cities, or promoted to offices of trust and
dignity in the government of the community, were often, as will appear frona
transactions which I shall hereafter relate, of such considerable rank in
the kingdom, as reflected lustre on their constituents, and on the stations
wherein they were placed.

As it was impossible to carry on a continual war against the Moors.
without some other military force than that which the barons were obliged
to bring into the field, in consequence of the feudal tenures, it became ne-
cessary to have some troops, particularly a body of light cavalry, in constant
pay. It was one of the privileges of tlie nobles, that their lands were
exempt from the bm-den of taxes. The charge of supporting the troops re-
quisite for the pubHc safety fell wholly upon the cities ; and theii' kings, being
obHgcd frequently to apply to them for aid, found it necessary to gain their
favour by concessions, which not only extended their immunities, but added
to their wealth and power.

When the influence of all these cii-eumstances, peculiar to Spain, is added

SECT, ni.] OP THE SPANISH MONAHCHS. 71

to the general and common eanses Avliich contributed to asrj^randize cities in
otiier countries of Europe, this will fully account for the extensive priviJeij'es
y\']\\('\\ they acquired, as well as for the extraordinary consideration to which
1hr>\- attained, m all the Spanish kingdoms. (35)

;v :' ;-• exorbitant privileges of the nobility, and this nmisual i)0wer of
1 Spain, the royal prerogative was hemmed in on every side, and
;\ vwa > d within very narrow bounds. Sensible of this, and impatient of such
restraint, several monarchs endeavoured, at various junctures and by different
means, to enlarge their own jurisdiction. Their power, however, or their
abilities, were so miequal to the undertaking, at their efforts were attended
with little success. But when Fcrdmand and Isabella found themselves at
the head of the united kingdoms of Spain, and delivered from the danger and
interruption of domestic wars, they were not only in a condition to resume,
but were able to prosecute with advantage, the schemes for extending the
]irerogative, which their aaicest9rs had attempted in vain. Ferdiaand's pro-
found sagacity in concerting his measures, his persevering industry in con-
ducting them, and his uncommon address in carrying them into execution,
fitted him admirably for an undertaking which required aD these talents.

As the overgrown power and high pretensions of the nobility were what
the monarchs of Spain felt most sensiolv, and bore with the greatest impa-
tience, the great object of Ferdmand's policy was to reduce these within more
moderate bounds. Under various pretexts, sometimes by violence, more fre-
quently in consequence of decrees obtained in the courts of law, he wrested
from the barons a great part of the lands which had been granted to them
by the inconsiderate bounty of fonner monarchs, particularly during the
feeble and profuse reign of' his predecessor, Henry IV. He did not give
the entire conduct of affairs to persons of noble birth, who were accustomed
to occupy every department of importance in peace or iu war, as if it had
been a privilege i)eculiar to their order to be employed as the sole counsellors
and ministers of the crown. He often transacted business of great conse-
quence, without their intervention, and bestowed many offices of power and
trust on new men, devoted to his interest.^ He introduced a degree of
state and di^ty into his court, which, being little known in Spain while it
remained split into many small kingdoms, taught the nobles to approach their
sovereign with more ceremony, and gradually rendered him the object of
greater deference and respect.

The annexing the masterships of the three military orders of St. Ja^,
Calatrava, and Alcantara, to the crown, was another expedient by which
Ferdinand greatly augmented the revenue and power of the kiugs of Spain.
These orders were instituted, in imitation of those of the Knights Templars
and of St. John of Jerusalem, on purpose to wage perpetual war with the Ma-
hometans, and to protect the pilgrims who visited Compostella, or other places
t)f eminent sanctity in Spain. The zeal and superstition of the ages iu which
they were founded, prompted persons of every rank to bestow such liberal
donations on those holy waniors, that, in a short time, the v engrossed a con-
siderable share in the property and wealth of the kingdom. The master-
ships of these orders came to be stations of the greatest power and opulence
to which a Spanish nobleman could be advanced. These high dignities were
in the disposal of the knights of the order, and placed the persons on whcmi
they conferred them almost on a level with their sovereign. (36) Ferdinand,
unwilling that the nobility, whom he considered as already too formidable,
should derive such additional credit and influence from possessing the go-
vernment of these wealthy fraternities, was solicitous to wrest it out of their

*• Zurita, Aimales de Arag. torn. vi. p. ?2.

72 MEASURES TO EXTEND THE EOYAL PREROGATIVE. ?JtCT. m.

hands, and to vest it in the cro\vn. His measures for accomplishing thi3
were wisely planned, and executed with vigour ^° [1476 and 1493]. By ad-
di"ess, by promises, and by threats, he prevaiied on the knights of each order
to place Isabella and him at the head of it. Imiocent VIII. and Alexander
VI. gave this election the sanction of papal authority-^' and subsequent
pontiffs rendered the annexation of these masterships to the crown perpetual.
While Eerdinand, by this measure, diminished the power and inliuence of
the nobiHty, and added new lustre or authority to the crown, he was taking
other important steps with a view to the same object. The sovereign juris-
diction, which the feudal barons exercised within their own tei-ritories, was
the pride and distinction of their order. To have invaded openly a privilege
which they prized so higlily, and in defence of which they would have run so
eagerly to anns, was a measure too daring for a prince of Ferdinand's
cautious temper. He took advantage, however, of an opportunity which the
state of his kingdoms and spirit of his peoj)le presented him, in order to
undermine what he durst not assault. The incessant depredations of the
Moors, the want of discipline among the troops which were emploved to
oppose them, the frequent civil wars between the crown and the nobility, as
well as the undiscerning rage with which the barons carried on their private
wars with each other, filled aU the provinces of Spain with disorder. Kapine,
outrage, and murder, became so common, as not only to interrapt commerce,
but in a great measure to suspend all intercoui-se between one place and
another. That security and protection, which men expect from entermg into
civil societj^, ceased in a great degree. Internal order and police, while the
feudal institutions remained in vigour, were so little objects of attention, and
the admuiistration of justice was so extremely feeble, that it would have
been vam to have expected relief from the established laws or the ordinary
judges. But the evil became so intolerable, and the inhabitants of cities,
who were the chief sufferers, grew so impatient of this anarchy, that self-
preservation forced them to have recourse to an extraordinary remedy.
About the middle of the thirteenth century [1260], the cities in the king-
dom of Aragon, and, after their example, those in Castile, formed themselves
into an association, distinguished by the name of the Hoi^ Brotherhood.
They exacted a certain contribution from each of the associated towns:
they levied a considerable body of troops, in order to protect travellers, and
to pursue criminals; they appointed judges, who opened their courts in
various parts of the kingdom. Whoever was guilty of murder, robbery, or
of any act that violated the public peace, and was seized by the troops of the
brotherhood, was carried before judges of their nomination, who, without pay-
ing any regard to the exclusive and sovereign jurisdiction which the lord of
the place might claim, tried and condemned the criminals. By the establish-
ment of this fi'atemity, the prompt and impartial administration of justice
was restored ; and, together with it, internal tranquillity and order began
to return. The nobles alone murmured at this salutary institution. They
complained of it as an encroachment on one of then* most valuable privi-
leges. They remonstrated against it in a high tone ; and, on some occa,sions,
refused to grant any aid to the crown, unless it were abolished, Ferdinand,
however, was sensible not only to the good effects of the Holy Brotherhood
with respect to the police of his dominions, but _ perceived its tendency to
abridge, and at length to aimihilate, the territorial jurisdiction of the nobility.
He countenanced it on every occasion. He supported it with the whole force

30 Marian. Hist. lib. xxv. c. 5.

31 Zurita, Annales, torn. v. p. 22. EX\\ Anton. Nebrissensis rerum a Ferdinand, et
Elizab. ge-etarum decades ii. apud Schot. Script. Hispan. i. 860.

SECT. III.] FILVXCE : ITS CONSTITUTION AND GOVERNMENT. 73

of royal a\iiliority ; and, beaides the expedients employed b^' biin in conimon
with tin; other monarchs of Europe, he availed liimself ol tliis institution,
which was i)eculiar to his kingdom, in order to limit and abolish that inde-
pendent jurisdiction of the nmjilitv, which was no less inconsistent with the
authority of the prince, than with the order of society, (37)

But though Ferdinand by these measures considerably cnlareed the
boundaries of his prcroj^ative, and acquired a degree of influence and power
far beyond what any of nis predecessors had enjoyed, yet the limitations of
the royal authority, as well as the barriers against its encroachments, con-
tinued* to be many and strong. The spirit of liberty was \Tigorous among
the people of Spain ; the spirit of independence was lilgh among the nobility ;
and though the love of glory, peculiar to the Spaniards in every period of
their history, prompted them to support Ferdinand with zeal in his foreign
operations, and to afford him such aid as enabled him not only to undertake
but to execute great enterprises, he reigned over his subjects with a jurisdic-
tion less extensive than that of any of the great monarchs in Europe. It will
appear from many passages in the following history, that, duringa consider-
able pai-t of the reign of his successor Charles v., the prerogative of the
Spanish croNvn was equally circumscribed.

The ancient government and laws in France so nearly resembled those of
the other feudal kuigdoms, that such a detail with respect to them as was
necessar)', in order to convey some idea of the nature and effects of the peculiar
institutions which took -phce in Spain, would be superfluous. In the view
which I have exliibited of the means by which the French monarchs acquired
such a full command of the national force of their kingdom, as enabled them
to engage in extensive schemes of foreign operation, I have already pointed
out the great steps by which they advanced towards a more ample possession
of political power, ancl a more uncontrolled exercise of their royal prerogative.
All that now remains is to take notice of such particulars in the constitution
of France as serve either to distinguish it from that of other countries, or
tend to throw any light on the transactions of that period, to which the
following History extends.

Under the French monarchs of the first race, the royal prerogative was
very inconsiderable. The general assemblies of the nation which met annually
at stated seasons, extended theii- authority to every department of government.
The power of electing kings, of enacting laws, of redressing grievances, ot
conferring donations on the prince, of passing judgment in the last resort,
with respect to every person, and to every cause, resided in this great conven
tion of the nation. Under the second race of kings, notwithstanding the
power and splendour which the conquests of Charlemagne added to the crown,
the general assemblies of the nation continued to possess extensive authority.
The right of determining which of the royal family should be placed on the
throne, was vested in them. The princes, elevated to that dignity by their
suffrage, were accustomed regularly to call and to consult them with respect
to every affair of importance to the state, and without their consent no law
was passed, and no new tax -svas levied.

But by tne time that Hugh Capet, the father of the tliird race of kings, took
possession of the throne of France, such changes had happened in the
political state of the kingdom, as considerably aflected the power and juris-
diction of the general assembly of the nation. The royal authority, in the
hands of the degenerate postenty of Charlemagne, had dwindled into insig-
nificance and contempt. Every considerable proprietor of land had formed
his territory into a barony, almost independent of the sovereign. The dukes
or governors of provinces, the counts or governors of towns and small districts,
ana the great officers of the crown, had rendered these dignities, which

74 RESTRICTIONS ON THE [sECT. lU.

originally were granted only during pleasure or for life, hereditary in tlieir
families. Each of these had usurped all the rights which hitherto had been
deemed the distinctions of royalty, particularly the privileges of dispensing
justice withia their own domains, of coining money, and of waging war.
Every district was governed by local customs, acknowledged a distinct lord,
and pursued a separate mterest The formality of doing homage to their
sovereign, was almost the only act of subjection which those haughty barons
would perform, and that bound them no farther than they were willing to
acknowledge its obligation. (38)

In a kingdom broken into so many independent baronies, hardly any com-
mon prmciple of union remained ; and the general assembly, in its delibera-
tions, could scarcely consider the nation as forming one body, or establish
common regulations to be of equal force in every part. Within the immediate
domains of the crown, the king might pubhsh laws, and they were obeyed,
because there he was acknowledged as the only lord. But if he had aimed at
rendering these laws general, that would have alaimed the barons as an en-
croachment upon the independence of their jurisdiction. The barons, when
met in the great national convention, avoided with no less care, the enacting
of general laws to be observed in every part of the kingdom, because the
execution of them must have been vested in the king, and would have en-
larged that paramount power which was the object of their jealousy. Thus,
under the descendants of Hugh Capet, the states-general (for that was the
name by which the supreme assembly of the Erench nation came then to be
distinguished) lost their legislative authority, or at least entirely relinquished
the exercise of it. Erom that period, the jurisdiction of the states-general
extended no farther than to the imposition of new taxes, the determination
of questions with respect to the right of succession to the crovtn, the settling
of the regency whein the precedhig monarch had not fixed it by his will, aaid
the presenting remonstrances enumerating the grievances of which the
nation wished to obtain redress.

As, duriug several centuries, the monarchs of Europe seldom demanded ex-
traordinary subsidies of then- subjects, and the other events which requu:ed
the interposition of the states rarely occurred, their meetings in Erance
were not frequent. They were summoned occasionally by their kings when
compelled by their wants or by their fears to have recoui'se to the great con-
vention of their people ; but they did not, like the diet in Germany, the cortes
in Spain, or the parliament in England, form an essential member of the
constitution, the regular exertion of whose powers was requisite to give
vigour and order to government.

When the states of Erance ceased to exercise legislative .authority, the
kings began to assume it. They ventured at first on acts of legislation with
great reserve, and after taking every precaution that could prevent their
subjects from being alarmed at the exercise of a new power. They did not at
once issue their ordinances in a tone of authority and command. They treated
with their subjects ; they pointed out what was best ; and allured them to
comply with it. By degrees, however, as the prerogative of the crown ex-
tended, and as the supreme jurisdiction of the royal courts came to be
tstabhshed, the kings of Erance assumed more openly the style and authority
of lawgivers ; and, before the begimung of the fifteenth century, the complete
legislative power was vested in the crown. (39)

liaving secured this important acquisition, the steps which led to the right
of imposmg taxes were rendered few and easy. The people, accustomed to
see their sovereigns issue ordinances, by their sole authority, which regulated
poiats of the 'greatest consequence with respect to tne property of tneir
subjects, were not alarmed when they were required, by the royaj edicts, ic

SECT. III.] AUTHOBITY OF THE CBOWN. 75

contribute certain sums to\rards supplying the exigencies of ffovemmcnt, and
carrying forward the measures of the nation. Wlieu Cliarles VII. and Louis
XI.* lirst- ventured to exercise this new power, in the manner in which I
ha\ ' ' described, the gradual^ increase of the royal authority had so
iiii prepared the iniuds of the people of France for tjiis innovation,

tha, .. ^... . . ^d no commoi ion in the kingdom, and seems scai-cely to have given
rise to any murmur or complaint.

"Wlien the kings of Prance had thus engrossed every power which can
be exerted in government ; when the right of making laws, of levj'iug money
of keeping an army of mercenaries in constant pay, of declaring war^ and of
concluding peace, centred in the crown, the constitution of the kingdom,
which, under the first race of kings, was nearly democratical ; which, under
the second race, became an aristocracy ; terminated, under the third race, in.
a pure monarchy. Everything that tended to preserv^e the appearance, or
revive the memory, of the ancient mixed government, seems from that period
to have been industriously avoided. During the long and active reign of
Francis I., the variety as well as extent of whose operations obliged him lay
many heavy impositions on his subjects, the states-general of Prance were not
once assembleci, nor were the people once allowed to exert the power of taxing
themselves, w-hich, according to the original ideas of feudal govei-nment, was
a right essential to every freeman.

Two things, however, remained, which moderated the exercise of the regal
prerogative, and restrained it within such bounds as preserved the constitu-
tion of Prance from degenerating into mere despotism. The rights and privi-
ieges claimed by the nobihty, must be considered as one barrier against the
absolute dominion of the crown. Though the nobles of Prance had lost that
poHtieal power which was vested in their order as a body, they still retained
the personal rights and pre-eminence which they derived from their rank.
They preser%'ed a consciousness of elevation above other classes of citizens ;
an exemption from burdens to which persons of inferior condition were sub-
ject ; a contempt of the occupations in which they were engaged ; the pri-
vilege of assuming ensigns that indicated their own dignity; a right to be
treated with a certain degree of deference dui'ing peace ; and a claim to vaiious
distinctions when in the field. Manv of these pretensions were not founded
on the words of statutes, or derived from positive laws ; they were defined and
ascertained by the maxims of honour, a title more delicate but no less sacred.
These rights, established and protected by a principle equally vigilant in
guarding, and intrepid in defending them, are to the sovereign himself ob-
jects of respect {md veneration. Wherever they stand in its way, the royal
prerogative is bounded. The violence of a despot may exterminate such an
order of men ; but as long as it subsists, and its ideas of personal distinction
remain entire, the power of the prince has limits.^-

As in Prance the body of nobility was very numerous, and the individuals
of which it was composed retained a high sense of their own pre-eminence, to
this we may ascribe, in a gi-eat measure, the mode of exercising the royal
prerogative which peculiarlj' distingidslies the government of that kingdom.
An intermediate order was placed between the monarch and his other sub-
jects, and in evei-v act of authority it became necessary to attend to its privi-
leges, and not only to guard against any real violation of them, but to avoid
any suspicion of supposing it to be possible that they might be violated
Thus a species of government was established in Prance, unknown in the
ancient world, that of a monarchy, in which the power of the sovereiga,

*2 De I'Esprit des Loix, Jtrr. ii..c 4. Dr. Fergusson's Essay on the Hist, of CivU Sode^,
^art L sect. 10.

76 EAELY HISTOEY OP [SECT. in.

though unconfmed by any legal or constitutional restraint, has certain bounds
set to it by the ideas which one class of his subjects entertain concerning their
Ciwn di^iity.

The jurisdiction of the parhaments in Prance, particularly that of Paris,
was the other barrier which served to confine the exercise of the royal prero-
gative within certain limits. The parliament of Paris was originally the
court of the kings of Prance, to which they committed the supreme adminis-
tration of justice within their own domains as weU as the power of decidiag
with respect to all cases brought before it by appeals from the courts of the
barons. When, in conseciuence of events and regulations which have been
mentioned formerly, the time and place of its meeting were fixed ; when not
only the form of its procedure, but the prmciples on which it decided, were
rendered regular and consistent ; when every clause of importance was finally
determined there ; and when the people became accustomed to resort thithei
as to the supremeteraple 9f justice ; the parliament of Paris rose to high
estimation in the kingdom, its members acquired dignity, and its decrees were
submitted to with deference. Kor was this the only source of the power and
influence which the parliament obtained. The kings of Prance, when they
first began to assume the legislative power, in order to reconcile the minds
of their people to this new exertion of prerogative, j^roduced their edicts and
ordinances in the parliament of Paris, that thev might be approved of and
registered there, before they were published and declared to be of authority
in the kingdom. During the intervals between the meetings of the states-
general oi the kingdom, or during those reigns in which the states-general
were not assembled, the monarchs of Prance were accustomed to consult the
parliament of Paris with respect to the most arduous affairs of government,
and frequently regulated their conduct by its advice, in declaring war, in con-
cluding peace, and in other transactions of pubhc concern. Thus there was
erected in the kingdom a tribunal which became the great depository of the
laws, and, by the uniform tenor of its decrees, established principles of justice
and forms of proceeding which were considered as so sacred, that even the
sovereign power of the monarch durst not venture to disregard or to violate
them. The members of this illustrious body, though they neither possess
legislative authority, nor can be considered as the representatives of the
people, have availed themselves of the reputation and influence which they
had acquired among their countiymen in order to make a stand, to the utmost
of their ability, against every unprecedented and exorbitant exertion of the
prerogative. In every period of the Prench history, they have merited the
praise of being the virtuous but feeble guardians of the rights and privileges
of the nation. (40)

After taking this view of the political state of Prance, I proceed to consider
that of the German empire, from_ which Charles Y. derived his title of highest
dignity. In explaining the constitution of this ^reat and complex body at the
beginning of the sixteenth century, I shall avoid entering into such a detail
as would involve my readers in that inextricable labyrinth, which is formed
by the multiplicity of its tribunals, the number of its members, their inter-
fering rights, and by the endless discussions or refinements of the public
lawyers of Germany, with respect to aU these.

The empire of Charlemagne was a structure erected in so short_ a time that
it could not be permanent. Under his immediate successor it began to
totter, and soon after fell to pieces. The crown of Gennany was separated
from that of Prance, and the descendants of Charlemagne estabHshed two
great monarchies, so situated as to give rise to a perpetual rivalship and
enmity between them- But the princes of the race of Charlemagne who
were placed on the imperial throne, were not altogether so degenerate aa

SECT, in.] THE GERSLAS EMPIRE. 77

those of the same family who reigned in France. In the hands of the former,
the royal authority retained some vigour, and the nobles of Germany,
though possessed or extensive privileges as well as ample territorieSj did not
so eiuiy attain independence. The great offices of the crown continued to
be at the disposal of the sovereign, ' and during a long period, fiefs re-
mained in their original state, without becoming hereditary and perpetual in
the families of the persons to whom they had been granted.

At length the German branch of the family of Charlemagne became extinct,
and his feeble descendants who reigned in France had sunk into such con-
tempt that the Germans, without looking towards them, exercised the right
inherent in a free people ; and in the general assembly of the nation elected
Conrad, count of Franeonia, emperor [911]. After him Henry of Saxony,
and his descendants, the tliree Othos. were placed, in succession, on the
imperial throne, by the suffrages of tneir countrymen. The extensive ter-
ritories of the Saxon emper9rs, their eminent abilities and enterprising
genius, not only added new vigour to the imperial d^nity, but raised it to
igher power and pre-eminence [952]. Otho the Great marched at the
head of^ a numerous army into Italy, and, after the example of Charle-
magne, gave law to that country. Every power there recognised his au-
thority. He created popes, and deposed them, by his sovereign mandate.
He annexed the kingdom of Italy to the German empire. Elated with his
success, he assumed the title of Caesar Augustus." A prince bom in the
heart of German}^ pretended to be the successor of the emperors of ancient
Rome, and claimed a right to the same power and prerogative.

But while the emperors, by means of these new titles and new dominions,
gradually acquired additional authority and splendour, the nobility of Ger-
many had gone on at the same time extending their privileges and jurisdic-
tion. The situation of affairs was favourable to their attempts. The vigour
which Charlemagne had given to government quickly relaxed. The incapa-
city of some of his successors was such as would have encouraged vassals
less enterprising than the nobles of that a^e, to have claimed new rights, and
to have assumed new powers. The civil wars in which other emperors
were engaged, obliged them to pay perpetual court to their subjects, on
whose support they depended, and not only to connive at their usurpations,
but to permit, ana even to authorize them. Fiefs gradually became here-
ditary. They were ti-ansmitted not only in the direct, out also into the colla-
teral line. The investiture of them was demanded not only by male but by
female heirs. Every baron began to exercise sovereign jurisdiction within
his own domains ; and the dukes and counts of Germany took wide steps
towards rendering their territories distinct and independent states." The
Saxon emperors observed their progress, and were aware of its tendency.
But as they could not hope to humble vassals already grown too potent,
unless they had turned their whole force as well as attention to that en-
terprise, and as they were extremely intent on their expeditions into Italy,
which tliey could not undertake without the concurrence of their nobles, they
were solicitous not to alarm them by any direct attack on their privileges and
jurisdictions. They aimed, however, at undermining? their power. ^Viththis
view, they inconsiderately bestowed additional territories, and accumulated
new honours on the clcrff}- in hopes that this order might serve as a coun-
ternoise to that of the nobility in any future struggle."

The unliappy effects of this fatal error in policy were qnickly felt. Under
the emperors of the Franconian and Swabian lines, whom the Germans by

" Annalista Saso, &.C. ap. Sfruv. Corp. vol. i. p. 246.

»♦ rtV&i, Abre-d, pp. 120, 162. Lib. Feudor. tit. i. =5 ii,;a. p.

78"t THE POPES AND THE ElIPEHORS. L^-ECT. m.

their voluntary election, placed on the imperial throne, a new face of things
appeared, and a scene M^as exhibited in Germany, which astonished aU Chns-
tendom at that time, and in the present age appears almost incredible. The
popes, liitherto dependent on the emperors, and indebted for power as well as
dignity to their beneficence and protection, began to claim a superior
jurisdiction ; and, in virtue of authority which they pretended to derive from
heaven, tried, condenmed, excommunicated, and deposed, their former
masters. Nor is this to be considered merely as a frantic sally of passion
in a pontiff intoxicated with hi^h ideas concerning the extent of priestly
domination, and the plenitude of papal authority. Gregory YII. was able
as well as daring. His presumption and violence were accompanied with
political discernment and sagacity. He had obsei-ved that the princes and
nobles of Germany had acquired such considerable territories and such
extensive jurisdiction, as rendered them not only formidable to the empe-
rors, but disposed them to favour any attempt to circumscribe their power.
He foresaw that the ecclesiastics of Germany, raised almost to a level with
its princes, were ready to support any person who would stand forth as the
protector of their privileges and independence. With both of these Gregory
negotiated, and had secured many devoted adherents among them, before he
ventured to enter the lists agaiust the head of the empire.

He began his rupture with Henry lY. upon a pretext that was popular
and plausible. He complained of the venality and corruption with which
the emperor had granted the investiture of benefices to ecclesiastics. He
contended that this right belonged to_ him as the head of the church ; he
required Henry to confine himself within the bounds of his civil jurisdiction,
and to abstain for the future from such sacrilegious encroachments on the

Siritual dominion. All the censures of the church were denounced against
enry, because he refused to relinquish those powers which his predeces-
sors had uniformly exercised. The most considerable of the German princes
and ecclesiastics were excited to take arms against him. His mother, his
wife, his sons, were wrought upon to disregard all the ties of blood as well
as of duty, and to join the party of his enemies.^*' Such were the successfid
arts with which the court of Rome inflamed the superstitions zeal, and con-
ducted the factious spirit of the Germans and Italians, that an emperor,
distinguished notonly for many virtues,; but possessed of considerable talents,
was at length obliged to appear as a supphcant at the gate of the castle in
which the pope resided, and to stand there three days, barefooted, in the
depth of vrinter, imploring a pardon, which at length he obtained with diffi-
culty, [1077] . (41) , _

This act of humihation degraded the imperial dignity. Nor was the de-
pression momentary only. The contest between Gregory and Henry gave
rise to the tw9 great factions of the Guelphs and Ghibellmes ; the former of
which supporting the pretensions of the popes, and the latter defending the
rights of tne emperor, kept Germany and Italy in perpetual agitation during
three centuries. A regular system for humblmg the emperors and circum-
scribing their power was formed, and adhered to unifornuy throughout that
period. The popes, the free states in Italy, the nobility, and ecclesiastics of
Germany, were dl interested in its success ; and notwithstanding the return
of some short intervals of vigour, under the administration of a few able
emperors, the imperial authority continued to decline. Durmg the anarchy
of the long interregnum subsequent to the death of William of HoUand
ri256], it dwindled down almost to nothing. Rodulph of Hapsburgh, the
toundjer of the house of Austria, and who first opened the way to its future

»• Annal. German, ap. Struv. i. p. 325.

SECT. UI.l CHANGE- KJ TJIE CONSTITUTION. 79

grancleiir. was at length elected emperor [127a], not that he rai^ht re-esta-
•lud extend the imperial authority, but because his temtories and
ice were so inconsiderable as to excite no jealousy in the German
|inm»;s, who wei'c willing to prcbcrve the forms of a constitution, the power
and vigour of which they had destroyed. Several of his successors were
phicod on the impcriid throne from the same motive : and ahnost every re-
maimng prerogative was wrested out of the hands oi feeble princes unable
to exercise or to defend them.

Dui'ing this period of turbulence and confusion, the constitution of the
Grermauic body underwent a total change. The ancient names of courts and
magistrates, together with the original fonns and appearance of policy, were
preserved; but such new prinleges and juiisdiction were assumed, and so
many various rights established, that the same species of government no
longer subsisted. The princes, the great nobility, the dignified ecclesiastics,
the free cities, had taken advantage of the interregnum which I have men-
tioned, to establish or to extend their usurpations. They claimed and
exercised the right of governing their respective territories witn full sove-
reignty. They acknowledged no superior with respect to any point relative
to the interior administration and police of their domains. They enacted laws,
imposed taxes, coined money, declared war, concluded peace, and exerted
every prerogative peculiar to independent states. The ideas of order and
poHtical union, which had originally formed the various provinces of Germany
into one body, were almost entirely lost; and the society must have dis-
solved, if the forms of feudal subordination had not preserved such an
appearance of connexion or dependence among the various members of the
community, as preserved it from falling to pieces.

This bond of union, however, was extremely feeble ; and hardly any principle
remained in the German constitution of sufficient force to ruaintain public
ordei-, or even to ascertain personal security. From the accession of Rodulph
of Hapsburgh to the reign of Maximilian, the immediate predecessor of
Charles V., the empire felt every calamity which a state must endure when
the authority of government is so much relaxed as to have lost its proper
degree of vigour. The causes of dissension among that vast number of mem-
bers which composed the Germanic body, were infinite and unavoidable.
These gave rise to perpetual private wars, which were carried on with all the
violence that usually aeeompauies resentment, when um-estrained by superior
authority. Eapine, outrage, exactions, became universal. Commerce was
interrupted; industry suspended; and everv part of Germany resembled a
country which an enemy had plundered and left desolate." The variety of
expedients employed with a view to restore order and tranquillity prove that
the grievances occasioned by this state of anarchy had grown intolerable.
Arbiters were appointed to terminate the differences among the several states.
The cities united in a league, the object of which was to check the rapine
and extortions of the nobility. The nobility formed confederacies, on purpose
to maintain tranquillity among their own order. Germany was divided into
several circles, in each of wmch a provincial and pai-tial juiisdiction was
established, to supply the place of a public and common tribunal.*

But aU these remedies were so ineffectual, that they served only to demon-
strate the violence of that anarchy which prevailed, and the insufficiency of
the means employed to correct it. At length Maximilian re-established puolic
order in the empire, by instituting the Ijnperial Chamber [1495], a tribunal

" See above, p. 40, and Note (21) at the end of the Volume. Datt. de Pace Publica
Imper. p. 25, No. 58, p. 28, No. 26, p. 85, No. 11.
» Datt. paasim. Struv. Corp. Hisu i. p. 510, &c.

80 DEFECTS IN THE CONSTITUTION. LSECT. HI,

composed of judges named partly by the emperor, partly by the several
states, and vested with authority to decide finally concerning all differences
among the members of the Germanic body. A few years after [1512], by
giving a new form to the Aulic Council, which takes cognisance of aU feudal
causes, and such as belong to the emperor's immediate jurisdiction, he restored
some degree of vigour to the imperial authority.

But notwithstanding the salutary effects of these regulations and improve-
ments, the political constitution of the German empire, at the commencement
of the period of which I propose to write the history, was of a species so
peculiar, as not to resemble perfectly any form of government known either
in the ancient or modern world. It was a complex body, formed hy the asso-
ciation of several states, each of which possessed sovereign and independent
jurisdiction within its own territories. Of aU. the members which composed
this united body, the emperor was the head. In his name all decrees and
regulations with respect to points of common concern were issued, and to
him the power of carrying them into execution was committed. But this ap-

Eearance of monarchical power in the emperor was more than counterbalanced
y the influence of the princes and states of the empire in every act of
administration. No law extending to the whole body could pass, no resolution
that affected the general interest could be taken, without the approbation
of the diet of the empire. In this assembly every sovereign prince and state
of the GeiTaanic body had a right to be present, to deliberate, and to vote.
The decrees or recesses of the diet were the laws of the empire, which the
emperor was bound to ratify and enforce.

under this aspect the constitution of the empire appears a regular con-
federacy, similar to the Acheean league in ancient Greece, or to that of the
United Provinces, and pf the Swiss Cantons, in modem times. But if viewed
in another light, striking peculiarities in its political state present them-
selves. The Germanic body was not formed by the union ^ of members
altogether distinct and independent. AU the princes and states joined in this
association were originally subject to the emperors, and acknowledged them
as sovereigns. Besides this, they originally held their lands as imperial
fiefs, and in consequence of this tenure owed the emperor all those services
which feudal vassals are bound to perform to their liege lord. But though
this political subjection was entirely at an end, and the influence of the feudal
relation much diminished, the ancient forms and institutions, introduced
while the emperors governed Germany with authority not inferior to that
which the other monarchs of Europe possessed, still remained. Thus an
opposition was established between the genius of the govermnent and the
forms of administration in the German empire. The former considered the
emperor only as tlie head of a confederacy, the members of which, by_ their
voluntary choice, have raised him to that dignity ; the latter seemed to imply
that he is really invested with sovereign power. By this circumstance, such
principles of hostility and discord were interwoven into the frame of the Ger-
manic body as affected each of its members, rendering their interior union
incomplete, and their external efforts feeble and irreo-ular. The pernicious
influence of this defect inherent in the constitution of the empire is so con-
siderable, that, without attending to it, we cannot fully comprehend many
transactions in the reign of Charles V., or form just iaeas concerning the
genius of the German government.

The emperors of Germany, at the beginning of the sixteenth century, were
distinguished by the most pompous titles, and by such ensigns of dignity, as
intimated their authority to be superior to that of all other monarchs. The
greatest princes of the empire attended and served them, en some occasions,
&s the oCicers of their household. They exercised prerogatives which no other

WCT. m.] IfflS ELECTOBAU. 81

sovereign ever claimed. They retained pretensions to all the extenvive
powers wliich their predecessors had enjoyed in any former age. But» at
the same time, instead of possessing that ample domain which had belonged
to the ancient emperors of Geraiany, and which stretched from Basil to
Cologne, along both banks of the llhine^^"' they were stripped of all territorial
property, and had not a single city, a single castle, a single foot of land, that
belonged to them as heads of the empire. As their domain was alienated,
their stated revenues were reduced ahaiost to nothing ; and the extraordinary
aids which on a few occasions they obtained, were granted sparingly and paid
with reluctance. ^ The princes and states of the empire, though they seemed
to recognise the imperial authority, were subjects only in name, each of them
possessmg a complete municipal jui'isdiction within the precincts of his own
territories.

From this Hi-compacted frame of government, effects that were unavoidable
resulted. The emperors, dazzled with the splendour of their titles and the
external signs of vast authority, were apt to imagine themselves to be the real
sovereigns of Germany, and were led to aim continually at recovering the
■exercise of those powers which the forms of the constitution seemed to vest in
them, and which their predecessors, Charlemagne and the Othos, had actually
enjoyed. The princes and states, aware of the nature as well as the extent
of these pretensions, were perpetually on their guard, in order t9 watch all
the motions of the imperial court, and to circumscribe its power within limits
still more narrow. The emperors, in support of their claims, appealed to
ancient forms and institutions, which the states held to be obsolete. The
states founded their rights on recent practice and modern privileges, whicli
the emperors considered as usurpations,

This jealousy of the imperial authority, together witk the opposition be-
tween It and the rights of the states, increased considerably from the time that
the emperors were elected, not by the collective body of German nobles but
by a few prmces of chief dignity. During a long period, aU the members
of the Germanic body had a n^ht to assemble, and to make choice of the
person whom they appointed to be their head. But amidst the violence and
anarchy which prevailed for several centuries in the empire, seven princes
who possessed the most extensive territories, and who had obtained an here-
ditary title to the great offices of the state, acquii'cd the exclusive privileo-e of
noramatrng the emperor. This right was confirmed to them by the Golden
^ull; the mode of exercismg it was ascertained, and they were cfignified with
the appeUation of electars. The nobility and free cities being thus stripped of
a privilege which they had once enjoyed, were less connected with a prince
towards whose elevation they had not contributed by their suffrages mi
came to be more apprehensive of his authority. The electors, by their ex-
tensive power, and the distmguishing privileges which thev possessed, became
lonrndable to the emperors, with whom they were place'd almost on a level
m several acts of jurisdiction. Thus the introduction of the electoral college
into the empire, and the authority which it acquired, instead of diminishing
contributed to strengthen, the principles of hostility and discord in the Ger-
mame constitution.

These

CIV

no

Lhese were farther augmented by the various and repugnant forms of
11 policy in the several states which compose the Germanic body. It is
easy matter to render the union of independent states perfect and eniue,
even wlien the genius and forms of their respective governments happen to
be altogetlier smular. But in the German empire, which was a confederacy
ot prmces, of ecclesiastics, and of free cities, it was impossible that they could

Pfeffel, Abrrfg6, &c. p. 241.

8^ CAUSES, or .DISSENisiON. [S£CT. III.

incorporate thoroughly. The free cities were small republics, in which the
maxims and spirit peculiar to that species of government prevailed The
prmces and nobles, to whom supreme jurisdiction belonged, possessed a sort
of monarchical power withm their own territories, and the forms of their
mterior admimstration nearly resembled those of the great feudal kingdoms
Ihe mterests, the ideas the objects of states so differently constituted, cannot
be the same. Nor could their common deliberations be carried on with the
sapae spirit, while the love of liberty, and attention to commerce, were the
reignmg prmciples m the cities, while the desire of power, and ardour for
military glory, were the governing passions of the princes and nobility.

ihe secular and ecclesiastical members of the empire were as little fitted
tor umon as the free cities and the nobility. Considerable territories had
been granted to several of the German bishoprics and abbeys, and some of
the highest offices iu the empire having been annexed to them inalienably
were held by the ecclesiastics raised to these dignities. The younger sons of
noblemen of the second order, who had devoted themselves to the church
were commonly promoted to these stations of eminence and power; and it
was no smaU mortification to the princes and great nobility, to see persons
raised from an inferior rank to the same level with themselves, or even
exalted to superior dignity. The education of these churchmen, the genius
of their profession, and their connexion with the court of Rome, rendered
theii- character as weU as their interest different from those of the other
members of the Germanic body, with whom they were called to act in concert.
Thus another source of jealousy and variance was opened, which ought
not to be overlooked when we are searching into the nature of the German
constitution.

To all these causes of dissension may be added one more, arising from the
unequal distribution of power and wealth among the states of the empire.
The electors, and other nobles of the highest rank, not only possessed sove-
reign jurisdiction, but governed such extensive, populous, ana rich coimtries,
as rendered them great iprinces. Many of the other members, though they
enjoyed aU the rights of sovereignty, ruled over such petty domains, that
their real power bore no proportion to this high prerogative. A well-com-
pacted and. vigorous confederacy could not be formed of such dissimilar
states. The weaker were jealous, timid, and unable either to assert or to
defend their just privileges. The more powerful were apt to assume and to
become oppressive. The electors and emperors, by turns, endeavoured to
extend their own authority,_ by encroaching on those feeble members of the
Germanic body, who sometimes defended their rights with much spirit, but
more frequently, being overawed or cqiTupted, they tamely surrendered their
privileges, or meanly favoured the designs formed against them, (42)

After contemplating aU these principles of disunion and opposition in the
constitution of the German empire, it will be easy to account for the want of
concord and uniformity, conspicuous in its councils and proceedings. That
slow, dilatory, distrustful, and irresolute spirit, which cnaracterises all its
deliberations, will appear natural in a body, the junction of whose members
was so incomplete, the different parts of which were held together by such
feeble ties, and set at variance by such powerful motives. But the empii-e of
Germany, nevertheless, comprehended countries of such great extent, and
was inhabited by such a martial and hardy race of men, that when the abilities
of an emperor, or zeal of any common cause, could rouse this imwieldy body
to put forth its strength, it acted with almost iiTcsistible force. In the follow-
ing history we shaU. find, that as the measures on which Charles V. was most
intent were often thwarted or rendered abortive by the spirit of jealousy and
division peculiar to the Germanic constitution -, so it was by the influence

liCT. ni.] THE TUKKWH MtPIRE. ^

which he acquired over the princes of the empire, and hy engi^ing them to
co-operafe with him, that he was enabled to make some of the greatest efforts
wliieh distinguish liis reign.

The Turkish liistory is so blended, duri'^" ■'^ • '' ri-^-v -A' -'^^- fhat

of the £:reat nations m Europe, and the tien,

and with such decisive influence, in the \v; < > • >rian

princes, that some previous account of tlie st ate ot" government in that great
empire, is no less necessary for the information of my readers than those views
of the constitution of other kingdoms which I have already exhibited to
them.

It has been the fate of the southern and more fertile parts of Asia, at
different periods, to be conquered by that warlike and hardy race of men
who iuliabit the vast country known to the ancients by the name of Scythia.
and among the modems by that of Tartary. One tribe of these people, callea
Turks or Turcomans, extended its conquests, under various leaders, and
during several centuries, from the shore of the Caspian Sea to the Straits of
the Dardanelles. Towards the middle of the fifteenth century, these for-
midable conquerors took Constantiuople by stonn, and established the seat of
their government iu that imperial city, Greece, Moldavia, WaUachia, and
the otner provinces of the ancient kingdoms of Thrace and Macedonia,
together with part of Hungary, were subjected to their power,

lout though the seat of the Turkish government was fixed in Europe,
and the sultans obtained possession of such extensive dominions in that
quarter of the globe, the genius of their policy continued to be purely Asiatic,
and may be properly termed a despotism, in contradistinction to those
monarchical and republican forms of government which we have been hitherto
contemplating. The supreme power was vested in sultans of the Ottoman
race, that blood being deemed so sacred, that no other was thought worthy
of the throne. From this elevation, these sovereigns could look down anti
behold all then; subjects reduced to the same level before them. The maxims
of Turkish policy do not authorize any of those institutions which, iu other
countries, limit the exercise or moderate the rigour of monarchical power :
they admit neither of anv gi-eat court with constitutional and permanent ju-
risoiction to interpose, both in enacting laws, and in supermtending the
execution of them ; nor of a body of hereditarv nobles, whose sense of their
own pre-eminence, whose consciousness of what is due to their rank and
character, whose jealousy of their privileges, circumscribe the authority of the
prince, and serve not only as a barrier against the excesses of his caprice,
but stand as an intermediate order between him and the people, under
the Turkish government, the political condition of every subject is equal. To
be emploj^ed in the service of the sultan is the omy circumstance that
confers distinction. Even this distinction is rather oificial than personal,
and so closely annexed to the station iu which any individual serves, tliat it
is scarcely communicated to the persons of those who are placed in them.
The highest dignity in the empire does not give any rank or pre-eminence to
the familv of him who enjoys it. As every man, befOTC be is raised to any
station of authority, must go though the preparatory discipline of a long and
servile obedience, *° the moment he is deprived of power, he and his posterity
return to the same condition with other subjects, and sink back into obscurity.
It is the distinguisliing and odious characteristic of eastern despotism, that it
annihiktes all other ranks of men, in order to exalt the monarch ; that it
leaves nothing to the former, while it gives everything to the latter ; that it
endeavours to fix in the minds of those who are subject to it, the idea of no

*o State of the Turkish Empire by Rycant, p. 25.
63

84 THE JANIZARIES. [SECT. IH.

relation between men but that of a master and of a slave ; tlie former destined
to command and to punish, the latter formed to tremble and obey. (43)

But as there are circumstances which frequently obstruct or defeat the
salutary effects of the best-regulated government*, there are others which con-
tribute to mitigate the evils of the most defective forms of policy. There
can, indeed, be no constitutional restraints upon the will of a prince in a
despotic government; but there may be such as are accidental. Absolute
as the Turkish sultans are, they feel themselves circumscribed both by religion,
the principle on which their authority is founded," and by the army, the
instrument which they must employ in order to maintain it. Wherever
religion interposes, the will of the sovereign must submit to its decrees. When
the Koran hath prescribed any_ religious rite, hath enjoined any moral duty,
or hath confirmed, by its sanction, any political maxim, the command of tne
sultan cannot overturn that which a higher authority hath established. _ The
chief restrictions, however, on the will of the sultans is imposed by the military
power. An armed force must surround the throne of every despot, to main-
tain his authority, and to execute his commands. As the Turks extended
their empire over nations which they did not exterminate but reduce to
subjection, they found it necessary to render their military establishment
numerous and formidable. Amrutli, their third sultan, in order to form a body
of troops devoted to his will, that might serve asthe immediate guards of his
person and dignity, commanded his officers to seize annually, as the imperial
propertv, the fifth part of the youth taken in war. These, after being in-
structed in the Mahometan religion, inured to obedience by severe discipline,
and trained to warlike exercises, were formed into a body, distinguished by
the name of janizaries, or new soldiers. Every sentiment which enthusiasm
can inspire, every mark of distinction that the favour of the prince could
confer, were employed in order to animate this body with martial ardour, and
with a consciousness of its own pre-eminence.''^ The janizaries soon became
the chief strength and pride of the Ottoman armies ; and, by their number as
well as reputation, were distinguished above all the troops, whose duty it
was to attend on the person of the sultans. (44)

Thus, as the supreme power in every society is possessed by those who have
arms in their hands, this formidable body of soldiers, destined to be the
instruments of enlarging the sultan's authority, acquired, at the same time,
the means of controlling it. The janizaries in Constantinople, like the praeto-
rian bands in ancient Rome, quickly perceived all the advantages which
they derived from being stationed in the capital, from their union under
one standard, and from being masters of the person of the prince. The
sultans became no less sensible of their influence and importance. The
capiculy, or soldiery of the Porte, was the only power in the empire that a
sultan or his yisier had reason to dread. To preserve the fidelity and attach-
ment of the janizaries, was the great art of government, and the principal
object of attention in the policy of the Ottoman court. Under a monarch,
whose abilities and vigour of mmd fit him for command, they are obsequious
instruments, execute whatever he enjoins, and render his power irresistible.
Under feeble princes, or such as are unfortunate, they become turbulent
and mutinous ; assume the tone of masters ; degrade and exalt sultans at
pleasure; and teach those to tremble, on whose nod, at other times, life and
death depend.

From Mahomet II., who took Constantinople, to Solyman the Magnificent,
who began his reign a few months after Charles V. was placed on the im-

" T5tate of the Turkish Empire, by Rycaut, p. 8.

*2 Prince Cantemir's Histcay of the Othman Empire, p. 87,

SECT. III.] SETTLEMENT OF THE OTTOMAN EMPIKE. 85

perial throne of Germanj^, a succession of illustrious princes ruled over the
Turkish empire. By their great abilities, they kept their subjects of every
order, military as wvU as civil, submissive to government, and had the ab-
solute command of whatever force their vast empire was able to exert. Soly-
man, in particular, avIio is known to the Christians chiefly as a conqueror,
but is celebrated in the Turkisli annals as the great lawgiver who established
order and police in their empire, governed, during his long reign, with no
less authority than wisdom. He divided his dominions into several districts ;
he appointed tlie number of soldiers which each should furnish; he ap-
propriated a certain proportion of the land in every province for their main-
tenance ; he regidated, with a minute accuracy, everything relative to their
discipline, their arms, and the nature of their service. He put the finances of
the empire into an orderly train of administration ; and, though the taxes in
the Turkish dominions, as well as in the other despotic monarchies of the
East, are far from being considerable, he supplied that defect by an attentive
and severe economy.

Nor was it only under such sultans as Solyman, whose talents were no
less adapted to preserve internal order than to conduct the operations of war,
that the Turkish empire emgaged with advantage in its contests with the
Christian states. The long succession of able princes, which I have men-
tioned, had given such vigour and firmness to the Ottoman government, that
it seems to have attained, during the sixteenth century, the highest degree of
perfection of which its constitution was capable; whereas the great mo-
narchies in Christendom were still far from that state which could enable
them to act with a full exertion of their force. Besides this, the Turkish
troops in that age possessed every advantage which arises from superiority in
mUitarj' discipline. At the time w^hen Solyman began his reign, the janizaries
had been embodied nearly a century and a half; and, during that long period,
the severity of their military discipline had in no degree relaxed. The
other soldiers, drawn from the provinces of the empire, had been kept almost
continually under arms, in the various wars which the sultans han carried
on with hardly an interval of peace. Against troops thus trained and ac-
customed to ser\'ice, the forces of the Christian powers took the field with great
disadvantage. The most intelligent, as well as impartial authors of the six-
teenth century, acknowle^ and lament the superior attainments of the Turks
in the military art. (45) The success which almost unifomily attended their
arms, in all their wars, demonstrates the justice of this observation. The
Christian armies did not acquire that superiority over the Turks which they
now possess, until the long establishment of standing forces had improved
military discipline among the former ; and until various causes and events,
which it is not in my province to explain, had corrapted or abolished their
ancient warlike institutions among the latter.

THE

mSTOET OF THE EEIGN

OF THE

EMPEROR CHARLES Y.

BOOK I.

Birth of Charles V. — His Hereditary Dominions — Philip and Joanna, his Parents —
Birth of Ferdinand, his Brother — Death of Isabella — Philip's Attempts to obtain
the Government of Castile — The Regent Ferdinand marries a Niece of the French
King to exclude Philip and his Daughter — The Castilian Nobility declare for Philip —
Philip and Joanna proclaimed — Death of Philip^Incapacity of Joanna — Ferdinand
made Regent — His Acquisition of Temtory — His Death — Education of Charles V. —
Cardinals Ximenes and Adrian — Charles acknowledged King — Ximenes strengthens
the Royal Power ; is opposed by the Nobles — War in Navarre and in Africa — Peace with
France — Charles visits Spain — His Ingratitude towards Ximenes — Death of the
Latter — Discontent of the Castilians — Corruption of the King's Flemish Favourites —
Reception of Charles in Aragon — Death of the Emperor Maximilian — Charles and
Francis I. Competitors for the Empire — Views of the other Reigning Potentates —
Assembly of the Electors — The Crown oflfered to Frederic of Saxony — He declines in
favour of Charles, who is chosen — Discontent of the Spaniards — Insurrection in
Valencia — The Cortes of Castile summoned to meet in Galicia — Charles appoints
■Regents, and embarks for the Low Countries.

Charles V. was bom at Ghent on the twenty-fourth day of Eebruary, in
the year one thousand five hundred. His father, Philip the Handsome, arch-
duke of Austria, was the son of the emperor Maximilian, and of Mary, the
only child of Charles the Bold, the last prince of the house of Burgundy' His
mother, Joanna, Avas the second daughter of Perdinand, king of Ai-agon, and
of Isabella, c^ueen of Castile.

A long tram of fortunate events had opened the way for this young prince
to the inheritance of more extensive dominions than any European monarch
since Charlemagne had possessed. Each of his ancestoi-s had acquired king-
doms or provinces, towards wliich their prospect of succession was extremely
remote. The rich possessions of Mary of Burgundy had been destined for
another family, she naving been contracted by her father to the only son of
Louis XI. of i>ance : but that capricious monarch, indulging liis hatred to
her family, chose rattier to strip her of part of her territories by force, than
to secure the whole by marriage : and by this misconduct, fatal to liis poa-
t«:ity, he threw all the Netherlands and iranche Comte into the hands of a

88 PHILIP AND JOANNA. [bOOK 1,

rival. Isabella, the daughter of John 11. of Castile, far from having any pros-
pect of that noble inheritance which she transmitted to her grandson, passed
the early part of her hfe in obscurity and indigence. But the Castilians,
exasperated against her brother, Hemy IV., an ill-advised and vicious prince,

Eublicly_ charged him with impotence, and his queen with adulteiy. Upon
is demise, rejecting Joanna, whom Henry had uniformly, and even on his
death-bed, owned to be his lawful daughter, and whom an assembly of the
states had acknowledged to be the heir of his kingdom, they obliged her to
retire into Portugal, and placed Isabella on the throne of Castile. I'erdi-
nand owed the crown of Aragon to the unexpected death of his elder brother,
and acquired the kingdoms of Naples and Sicily by violating the faith of
treaties, and disregarding the ties of blood. To all these kingdoms Christo-
pher Columbus, by an effort of genius and of intrepidity, the boldest and most
successful that is recorded in the annals of mankind, added a new world, the
wealth of which became one considerable source of the power and grandeur
of the Spanish monarchs.

Don John, the only son of Ferdinand and Isabella, and their eldest
daughter, the queen of Portugal, being cut off, without issue, in the flower
of youth, all their hopes centred in Joanna and her posterity. But as her
husband, the archduke, was a stranger to the Spaniards, it was thought ex-
pedient to invite him into Spain, that, by residing among them, he might
accustom himself to their laws and manners ; and it was expected that the
cortes, or assembly of states, whose authority was then so great in Spain,
that no title to the crown was reckoned valid unless it received their sanc-
tion, would acknowledge his right of succession, together with that of the
infanta, his wife. Philip and Joanna, passing through Prance in their way to
Spain, were entertained in that kingdom with the utmost magnificence. The
archduke did homage to Loyiis XII. for the earldom of Planders, and took his
seat as a peer of the realm in the parliament of Paris. They were received in
Spain with every mark of honour that the parental affection of Perdinand and
Isabella, or the respect of their subjects, could devise; and their title to the
crown was soon after acknowledged by the cortes of both kingdoms.

But amidst these outward appearances of satisfaction and joy, some secret
uneasiness preyed upon the mind of each of these princes. The statelv and
reserved ceremonial of the Spanish court was so burdensome to Pliilip, a
prince, young, gay, affable, fond of society and of pleasure, that he soon
be^an to express a desire of returning to his native country, the manners of
which were more suited to his temper. Perdinand, observing the declining
health of his queen, with whose life he knew that his right to the government
of Castile must cease, easily foresaw that a prince of Philip's disposition, and
who already discovered an extreme impatience to reign, would never consent
to his retauiing any degree of authority in that kingdom ; and the prospect
of this diminution of his power awakened the jealousy of that ambitious
monarch.

Isabella beheld, with the sentiments natural to a mother, the indifference
and neglect with which the archduke treated her daughter, who was destitute
of those beauties of person, as weU as those accomplishments of mind, which
fix the affections of a husband. Her understanding, always weak, was often
disordered. She doated on Philip with such an excess of childish and indis-
creet fondness, as excited disgust rather than affection. Her jealousy, for
which her husband's behaviour gave her too much cause, was proportioned
to her love, and often broke out in the most extravagant actions. Isabella,
though sensible of her defects, could not help pitying her condition, which
was soon rendered altogether deplorable by the archduke's abrupt resolution
of setting out in the middle of winter for Planders, and of leaving her in

BOOK I.] DEATH OF ISABELLA. OP SPAIN, 89

Spain. Isabella entreated him not to abandon his wife to grief and melan-
choly, which might prove fatal to her, as she was near the time of her delivery.
Joanna conjured him to put off his journey for three days only, that she might
have the uleasure of celebrating the festival of Christmas in his company.
Ferdinand, after representing the imprudence of his leaving Spain, before he
had time to become acquainted with the genius, or to gain the atfections of
the people who were one day to be liis subjects, besought him, at least, not
to pass through France, with which kingdom he was then at open war.
Philip, without regarding either the dictates of humanity, or the maxims of
prudence, persisted in his purpose : and on the twenty-second of December
set out for the Low Countries, by the way of France.'

From the moment of his departure, Joanna sunk into a deep and sullen
melancholy.- and while she was in that situation bore Ferdinand, her second
son, for wliom the power of his brother Charles afterwards procured the
kingdoms of Hungary and Bohemia, and to whom he at last transmitted the
imperial sceptre. Joanna was the only person in Spain who discovered no
joy at the bii-th of this prince. Insensible to that, as well as to every other
pleasure, she was wholly occupied with the thoughts of returning to her
husband ; nor did she, in any degree, recover tranquillity of mind, until she
arrived at Brussels next year.'

PMlip, in passing through France, had an interview with Louis XII., and
signed a treaty wim him, by which he hoped that all the differences between
France and Spain would have been finally terminated. But Ferdinand, whose
affairs, at that titne, were extremely prosperous in Italy, where the superior
genius of Gonsalvo de Cordova, the great captain, triumphed on every occa-
sion over the arms of France, did not pay the least regard to what bis son-in-
law had concluded, and carried on hostilities with greater ardour than ever.

From this time Philip seems not to have taken any part in the affairs of
Spain, waiting in quiet till the death either of Ferdinand or of Isabella should
open the way to one of their thrones. The latter of these events was not far
distant. The untimely death of her son and eldest daughter had made a deep
impression on the mind of Isabella ; and as she could derive but little con-
solation for the losses which she had sustained either from her daughter Joanna,
whose infirmities daily increased, or from her son-in-law, who no longer pre-
served even the appearance of a decent respect towards that unhappy princess,
her spirits and health began gradually to decline, and, after languishmg some
moftths, she died at Medina del Campo, on the twenty-sixth of November, one
thousand five hundred and four. She was no less eminent for virtue than for
wisdom ; and whether we consider her behaviour as a queen, as a wife, or as
a mother, she is justly entitled to the high encomiums bestowed upon her by
the Spanish historians.*

A few weeks before her death, she made her last vriU, and, being convinced
of Joanna's incapacity to assume the reins of government into her own hands,
and having no inclination to commit them to Philip, with whose conduct she
was extremely dissatisfied, she appointed Ferdinand regent or administrator
of the affairs of CastHe, until her grandson Charles should attain the age of
twenty. She bequeathed to Ferdinand, likewise, one-half of the revenues
which should arise from the Indies, together witn the grand-masterships of
the three military orders ; dignities which rendered the person who possessed
them almost independent, and which Isabella had, for that reason, annexed

' Petri Martyris Anglerii Epistolae, 250, 253. - Id. Ep. 255

• Mariana, lib. 27, ch. 11, 14. Flechier, Vie de Xim^n. i. p. 191.
« P. Mart. Ep. 279.

96> rEUDLNAND REGENT OF CiVSTlLE. LfiOOK I.

to. the. crown.^ But, before she signed a deed so favourable to Eerdinand, she.
obliged him to swear that he would not, by a second marriage, or by any other
means, endeavour to deprive Joanna or her posterity of their right of suc-
cession to any of his kingdoms.^

Immediately upon the queen's death, Ferdinand resigned the title of king
of Castile, and issued orders to proclaun Joanna and Philip the sovereigns of
that kingdom. But, at the same time, he assumed the character of regent,
in consequence of Isabella's testament : and not long after, he prevailed on
the cortes of Castile to acknowledge his right to that office. This, however,
he did not procure without difficultv, nor without discovering such symptoms
of alienation and disgust among the Castilians as filled him with great un-
easiness. The union of Castile and Ara^on for almost thirty years, had not
so entirelv extirpated the ancient and hereditary enmity which subsisted
between the natives of these kingdoms, that the Castilian pride could submit,
without murmuring, to the government of a king of Aragon. Ferdinand's
own character, with which the Castilians were well acquainted, was far from
rendering liis authority desirable. Suspicious, discerning, severe, and parsi-
monious, he was accustomed to observe the most minute actions of his sub-
jects with a jealous attention, and to reward theii' highest services with little
liberality; and they were now deprived of Isabella, whose gentle qualities,
and partiahty to her Castilian subjects, often tempered ms austeritv, or
rendered it tolerable. The maxims of his government were especially odious
to the grandees ; for that artful prince, sensible of the dangerous privileges
conferred upon them by the feudal institutions, had endeavoured to curb their
exorbitant power,''_by extending the royal jurisdiction, by protecting their in-
jured vassals, by increasing the immunities of cities,_and by other measures
equally prudent. From all these causes a formidable party among the Cas-
tilians united against Ferdinand ; and though the persons who composed it
had not liitherto taken any public step in opposition to him, he plamly saw
that, upon the least encouragement from their new kmg, they would proceed
to the most violent extremities.

There was no less agitation m the Netherlands upon receiving the accounts
of Isabella's death, and of Ferdinand's having assumed the government of
Castile. Philip was not of a temper tamely to suffer himself to be supplanted
by the ambition of his father-iu-law. If Joanna's infirmities, and the non-age
of Charles, rendered them iucapable of government, he, as a husband, was the
proper guardian of his wife, and, as a father, the natural tutor of his son.
Nor was it sufficient to oppose to these just rights, and to the inclination of
the people of Castile, the authority of a testament, the genuineness of which
was perhaps doubtful, and its contents to him appeared certainly to be
iniquitous. A keener edge was added to Philip's resentment, and new vigour
infused into his councils, by the arrival of Don John Manuel. He was Ferdi-
nand's ambassador at the imperial court, but, upon the first notice of Isabella's
death, repaii'ed to Brussels, flattering hhnself that, under a young and hberal
prince, he might attain to power and honours, which he could never have
expected in the service of an old and frugal master. He had early paid court
to Philip, during his residence in Spain, with such assiduity as entirely gained
his confidence ; and, having been trained to business under Ferdinand, could
oppose his schemes with equal abilities, and with arts not iuferior to those
for which that monarch was distinguished.^

By the advice of Manuel, ambassadors were despatched to require Ferdinand

5 P. Martyr. Ep. 277. Mar. Hist. liv. 28, ch. 11. Ferreras^ Hist. G^n^r. d'Eapagne,
torn. viii. 263. « Mar. Hist. lib. 28, ch. 14.

' Marian, lib. 28, ch. 12. s Zurita, Anales de Aragon tonuvi. pi 12.

liOOK r.] DEFEAT 01' railDINAND'S ME^VSUHES. 91

to retire into Aj*agon, andto reagn fhe gqv«nmient of Castle to those persons
whom Philip should entrust with it, until his own arrival in that kingdom.
Such of the Castilian nobles as had discovered any dissatisfaction with Ter-
diii; " ' ■ ;ition, were encouraged by every method to oppose it. At
tin ity was concluded with Louis Xli., by which Phihp flat-
ten .. v.. ....,L he had secured the frientlship and assistance ot that

monarch.

Meanwhile, Ferdinand employed all the arts of address and poUcy, in order
to retain the power of which he had got possession. By means of Conchillos,
an Aragonian gentleman, he entered into a private negotiation with Joanna,
and prevailed on that weak jirincess to contu-ra, by her authority, his right to
ilie regency. But this intrigue did not escape the penetrating eye of Don
John Manuel. Joamia's letter of consent was intercepted; Concnillos was
thrown into a dungeon ; she herself confined to an apartment in the palace,
and all her Spanish domestics secluded from her presence.^

The mortification which the discovery of this intrigue occasioned to Ferdi-
nand, was much increased by his observing the progress which Philip's emis-
saries made in Castde. Some of the nobles retired to their castles ; others
to the to^vns in which they had influence ; they formed themselves into con-
federacies, and began to assemble their vassals. Ferdinand's court was
almost totaUv deserted ; not a person of distinction, but Ximenes, archbishop
of Toledo, the duke of Alva, and the marquis of Denia, remaining there;
while the houses of PhiHp's ambassadors were dady crowded with noblemen
of the highest rank.

Exasperated at this universal defection, and mortified, perhaps, %vitli seeing
all his schemes defeated by a younger politician, Ferdinand resolved, in de-
fiance of the law of nature and decency, to deprive his daughter and her
posterity of the crown of Castile, rather than renounce the regency of that
kingdom. His plan for accompHshing this was no less bold tlian the inten-
tion itself wad wicked. He demanded in marriage Joanna, the supposed
daughter of Henry IV., on the belief of whose illegitimacy Isabella's right
to the crown of Castile wris founded ; and by reviving the claim of this piin-
cesa, in opposition to which he himself hacl formerly led armies and fought
battles, he hoped once more to get possession of the throne of that kingdom.
But Emanuel, king of Portugal, in whose dominions Joanna resided at that
time; having manied one of Ferdinand's daughters by Isabella, refused his
consent to that imnatural match : and the unhappy princess herself, having
lost all relish for the objects of amoition by being long immured in a convent,
discovered no less aversion to it.^"

The resources, however, of Ferdinand's ambition were not exhausted.
Upon meeting )\ith a repulse in Portugal, he turned towards France, and
sought in marriage Germaine de Foix, a daughter of the \'iscount of Nar-
bonne, and of Mary, the sister of Louis XII. The war which that monarch
had carried on against Ferdinand in Naples had been so unfortuuate, that he
listened with joy to a proposal which furnished him with an honourable pre-
tence for concluding peace ; and though no prince was ever more remixrkable
than Ferdinand for making all his passions bend to the maxims of interest, or
become subservient to the purposes of ambition, yet so vehement was his
resentment against his son-m-law, tliat the desire of gratifying it rendered
him. regardless ot every other consideration.. In order to be revenged of
Philip, Dy detaching Louis from his interest, and in order to gain a chance

» P. Mart. Ep. 287. Zurlta, Anales, vi. p. 14.

" Sandov. Hist, of Civil Wars in Castile. I»nd. 1655, p. 6. Znrita, Anales de Aragou,
ton), vi. p. 213.

92 CASTILLLN NOBLES DECLARE FOR PHILIP. [BOOK I.

of excluding him from his hereditary throne of Aragon, and the dominions
annexed to it, he was ready once more to divide Spain into separate king-
doms, though the union of these was the great glory of his reign, and had
been the chief object of his ambition ; he consented to restore the Neapolitan
nobles of the French faction to their possessions and honours ; and submitted
to the ridicule of marrying, in an advanced age, a princess of eighteen.^^

The conclusion of this match, which deprived Philip of his only ally, and
threatened him with the loss of so many kingdoms, gave him a dreadful alarm,
and convinced Don John Manuel that there was now a necessity of taking
other measures with regard to the affairs of Spain.*- He accordingly in-
structed the Flemish ambassadors at the court of Spain to testily the strong
desire which their master had of terminating all differences between him and
Ferdiaand in an amicable manner, and his wUluigness to consent to any con-
ditions that would re-establish the friendship which ought to subsist between
a father and a son-in-law. Ferdinand, though he had made and broken more
treaties than any prince of any age, was apt to confide so far in the sincerity
of other men, or to depend so much upon his own address and their weakness,
as to be always extremely fond of a negotiation. He listened with eagerness
to the_ declarations, and soon concluded a treaty at Salamanca, in which it
was stipulated that the government of Castile should be carried on in the
joint names of Joanna, of Ferdinand, and of Philip ; and that the revenues of
the crovra, as well as the right of conferring offices, should be shared between
Ferdinand and Philip, by an equal division.'^

[1506.] _ Nothing, however, was farther from Philip's thoughts than to
observe this treaty. His sole intention in proposing it was to amuse Ferdi-
nand, and to prevent him from taking any measures for obstructing his
voyage into Spain. It had that effect. Ferdinand, sagacious as he was, did
not for some time suspect his design ; and though, when he perceived it, he

Srevailed on the king of France not only to remonstrate against the arch-
uke's journey, but to threaten hostilities if he should undertake it ; though
he solicited the duke of Gueldres to attack his son-in-law's dominions in the
Low Countries ; Philip and Ms consort nevertheless set sail with a numerous
fleet and a good body of land forces. They were obliged by a violent tempest
to take shelter in England, where Henry V II., in compliance with Ferdinand's
solicitations, detained them upwards of three months :** at last they were
permitted to depart, and, after a more prosperous voyage, they arrived in
safety at Corunna in Galicia; nor durst Ferdinand attempt, as he once in
tended, to oppose their landing by force of arms.

The Castilian nobles, who had been obliged hitherto to conceal or to dis-
semble their sentiments, now declared openly in favour of Philip. From
every corner of the kingdom, persons of the highest rank, with numerous
retinues of their vassals, repaired to their new sovereign. The treaty of Sala-
manca was universally condemned, and all agreed to exclude from the govern-
ment of Castile a prince who, by consenting to disjoin Axagon and Naples
from that crown, discovered so little concern for its true interests. Fer-
dinand, meanwhile, abandoned by almost all the Castilians, disconcerted by
their revolt, and uncertain whether he should peaceably relinquish his power
or take arms in order to maintain it, earnestly solicited an interview with his
son-in-law, who, by the advice of Manuel, studiously avoided it. C9nvincea
at last, by seeing the number and zeal of Philip's adherents daily increase,

" P. Mart. Ep. 290, 292. Mariana, lib. 28, ch. 16, 17.

12 P. Mart. Ep. 293.

" Zurita, Anales de Aragon, vi. p. 19. P. Mart. Ed. 293, 294.

" Ferrer. Hist. viiL p. 285.

BOOK 1.] DEATH OF PHILIP. 93

that it was vain to tliink of resisting such a torrent, Ferdinand conaented, by
treaty, to rcsigrn the regency of Castile into the hands of Philip, to retire into
Lis hereditary dominions of Aragon and to rest satisfied witli the mastersliipa
of the military orders, and that share of the revenue of the Indies wliich
Isabella had bequeathed to liim. Though an interview between the princes
was no longer necessarj^. it was agreed to on both sides from motives of
decency. Philip repaired to the place appointed with a splendid retinue of
Castiliau nobles, and a considerable body of armed men. Ferdinand appeared
without any pomp, attended by a few followers mounted on mules, and un-
armed. On that occasion, Don John Manuel had the pleasure of displaving
before the monarch whom he had deserted the extensive influence which he
had acquired over liis new master ; while Perdinand suiFered, in presence of
his former subjects, the two most cruel mortifications which an artful and
ambitious prince can feel, being at once over-reached in conduct, and strippea
of power. *^

Not long after, he retired into Aragon ; and hoping that some favourable
accident would soon open the way to his return into Castile, he took care to
protest, though with great secrecy, that the treaty concluded with Ms son-in-
law, being extorted by force, ought to be deemed void of all obligation.^"

Philip took possession of liis new authority with a youthful ioy. The un-
happy Joaima, from whom he derived it, remained, during all these contests,
under the dominion of a deep melancholy ; she was seldom allowed to appear
in public ; her father, though he had often desired it, was refused access to
her; and Philip's chief object was to prevail on the cortes to declare her in-
capable of government, that an undivided power might be lodged in his hands,
until his son should attain to full age ; but such was the partial attachment
of the Castilians to their native princess, that though Manuel had the address
to gain some members of the cortes assembled at VaDadolid. and others were
willing to gratify their new sovereign in his first request, tne great body of
the representatives refused their consent to a declaration which they thought
so injurious to the blood of their monarchs." They were unanimous, how-
ever, in acknowledging Joaima and Philip queen and king of Castile, and
their son Charles, prince of Asturias.

[1506.] This was almost the only memorable event during Philip's ad-
ministration. A fever put an end to his life in the twenty-eighth year of his
age, when he had not enjoyed the regal dignity, which he had been so eager
to obtain, full three months.'^

The wnole royal authority in Castile ought, of course, to have devolved
upon Joanna. But the shock occasioned by a disaster so unexpected as the
death of her husband, completed the disorder of her understanding and her
incapacity for government. During aU the time of Philip's sickness, no en-
treaty could prevail on her, though in the sixth month of her pregnancy,
to leave him for a moment. When he expired, however, she did not shed
one tear, or utter a single groan. Her grief was silent and settled. She
continued to watch the dead body with the same tenderness and attention
as if it had been alive ; '' and though at last she permitted it to be buried, she
soon removed it from the tomb to her o^vn apartment. There it was laid
upon a bed of state in a splendid dress ; and having heard from some monk
a legendary tale of a king who revived after he had been dead fourteen years,
she kept her eyes abnost constantly fixed on the body, waiting for the happy

" Zurita, Anales de Arag. vi. p. 64. Mar. lib. 28, ch. 19, 20. P. Mart. Ep. 304, 305, &c

" Ibid. vi. p. 68. Ferrer. Hist. viii. p. 290.

" Zarita, An. de Arag. vi. p. 75. »• Marian, lib. 28, ch. 23,

" P. MarV Ep. 316.

■

.94 INCAPACITY or JO ANN V. , BOOK I.

moment of its return to life. Nor was tliis ca,pricious affection for lier dead
husband less tinctured with jealousy, than that which she had borne to liim
when alive. She did not permit any of her female attendants to approach
the bed on which his corpse was laid ; she would not suffer any woman who
did not belong to her family to enter the apartment ; and rather than grant
that privilege to a midwife, though a very aged one had been chosen on pur-
pose, she bore the princess Catherine without any other assistance thain that
of her own domestics.^**

A woman in such a state of mind was little capable of governing a great
kingdom ; and Joanna, who made it her sole employment to bewail the loss,
and to pray for the soul of her husband, would have thought her attention to
public aifairs an impious neglect of those duties which she owed to him.
But though she declined assuming the administration herself, yet, by a
strange caprice of jealousy;, she refused to commit it to any other person ;
and no entreaty of her subjects could persuade her to name a regent, or even
to sign such papers as were necessary for the execution of justice, and the se-
curity of the kingdom.

The death of Philip threw the Castilians mto the greatest perplexity. It
was necessary to appoint a regent, both on account of Joanna's frenzy and
the infancy of her son ; and as there was not among the nobles any person
so eminently distinguished, either by superiority in rank or abihties, as to be
called by the public voice to that high office, all naturally turned their eyes
either towards Ferdinand, or towards the emperor Maximilian. The former
cla,imed that dignity as administrator for his daughter, and by virtue of the
testament of Isabella ; the latter thought himself the legal guardian of his
grandson, whom, on account of his mother's infirmities, he already considered
as king of Castile. Such of the nobihty as had lately been most active in
compelling Eerdinand to resign the government of the kingdom, trembled at
the thoughts of his being restored so soon to his former dignity. They dreaded
the return of a monarch not apt to forgive, and who, to those defects with
which they were akeady acquainted, added that resentment which the re-
membrance of their behaviom- and reflection upon his own disgrace must
naturally have excited. Though none of these objections lay against Maxi-
milian, he was a stranger to the laws and manners of Castile ; he had not
either troops or money to support his pretensions, nor could his claim be
admitted without a public declaration of Joanna's incapacity for government,
an indignity to which, notwithstanding the notoriety of her distemper, the
delicacy of the Castilians cou).d not bear the thoughts of subjecting her.

Don John Manuel, however, and a few of the nobles who considered them-
selves as most obnoxious to Ferdinand's displeasure, declared for Maximilian,
and offered to support his claim with all their interest. Maximihan, always
enterprisiag and decisive in council, though feeble and dilatory in execution,
eagerly embraced the offer. But a series of ineffectual negotiations was the
only consequence of this transaction. The emperor, as usual, asserted his
right in a high stram, promised a great deal and performed nothing."^

A few days before the death of Philip, Perdinand had set out for Naples,
that, by his own presence, he might put an end, with greater decency, to
the vice-royalty of the Great Captain, whose important services and cautious
conduct did not screen him from the suspicions of his jealous master. Though
an account of his son-in-law's death reached him at Porto-fino, in the terri-
tories of Genoa, he was so solicitous to discover the secret intrigues which
ne supposed the Great Captain to have been carrying on, and to establish

20 Mar. Hist. lib. 29, ch. 3, et 5. P. Mart. Ep. 318, 324, 328, 332-
■^1 Mariana, lib. 29, ch 7. Zurita, Anaies de Arag. vi. r> ib

BOOiC I.] FERDINAI^I) MAD£ B.E6EKT. JK

his own authority on a firm fouxwlation in the NeapoKtan dominions, by rc-
jiir,- ;. ■• Im.m from the supreme command there, that, rather than discontinue
li he chose to leave C:istile in a state of anarchy, and even to risk,

h\ V, his obtaining possession of the government of that Jvingdom."

' hoiking- but the great abilities and prudent conduct of his adherents could
have prevented the bad elTects of this absence. At the head of these was
Ximenes. ai'chbishop of Toledo, who, thougli he had been raised to that dignity
by Isabella, contrary to the inclination of Ferdinand, and though he could
have no expectation of enjoying much power under the administration (4 a
master little disposed to distmguish him by extraordinary marks of attention,
was nevertheless so disinterested, as to prefer the welfare of his country
before his own grandeur, and to declare that Castile could never be so
happily govei-ned as by a prince whom long experience had rendered tho-
roughly acquainted with its true interest. The zeal of Ximenes to bring
over his countrymen to tliis opinion, induced him to lay aside somewhat of
his usual austerity and haughtiness. [1507.] He condescended on this occa-
sion to court the disaffected nobles, and employed address, as well as argu-
ments, to persuade them. Eerdiuand seconded his endeavours with great art;
and by concessions to some of the grandees, by promises to others, and by
letters full of complaisance to all, he gained, many of his most violent op-
ponents.2' Though many cabals were formed, and some commotions were
excited, yet when Terdinand, after having settled the affairs of Naples arrived
in Castile, he entered upon the administration without opposition. The
pradence with which lie exercised his authority in that kingdom, equalled
the ^ood fortune by which he had recovered it. By a moderate out steady
admmistration, free from partiality and from resentment, he entirely recon-
ciled the Castilians to his person, and secured to them, during the remainder
of his life, as much domestic tranquillity as was consistent with the genius
of the feudal government, which stdl subsisted among them in full vigour.^*

Nor was the preservation of tranquillity in his hereditary kingdoms the
only obligation which the archduke Charles owed to the wise regency of his
grandfather. It wos his good fortune, during that period, to have very im-
portant additions made to the dominions over which he was to reign. On the
coast of Earbaj-y, Oran, and other couciuests of no small value, were annexed
to the crown of Castile, by Cardinal Ximenes, who, with a spirit very
uncommon in a monk, led in person a numerous army against the Moors of
that country [1509]; and with a generosity and magnificence still more
sipgular, defrayed the whole expense of the expedition out of his own
revenues.-^ In Europe, Ferdinand, under pretences no less frivolous than

n' list as well as by artifices the most shameful and treacherous, expelled
n p'Albret, the lawful sovereign^ from the thi'one of Navarre ; and, seizing
that kingdom, extended the limits ol the Spanish monarchy from the Pyrenees
on the one hand, to the frontiers of Portugal on the other.-^

It was not. however, the desire of aggrandizing the archduke which hgi-
fluenced Ferdinand in this or in any other of his actions. He was more aijt
to consider that young prince as a rival, who might one day wrest out of his
hands the government of Castile, than as a grandson, for whose interest he
was entrusted with the administration. This jealousy soon begot aversion,
and even hatred, the symptoms of w^hich he was at no pains to conceal.
Hence proceeded his immoderate joy when his young queen was delivered of
a son, whose life would have deprived Charles of the crowns of lUagon,

I

» Zurita, Anales de Arag. vi. p. Bo. -^ Ibid. vi. pp. 87, 94, 109.

2* Mariana, Ub. 29, ch. 10. 25 jbid. lib. 29, ch. 18.

«» Ibid, Ub. 30, ch. 11, 12, 18, 24

Of) BiiAtH OP fERBlK AND. [book t.

Naples, Sicily, and Sardinia; and upon the untimely death of that prince he
discovered, for the same reason, an excessive solicitude to have other children.
This impatience hastened, in all probability, the accession of Charles to the
crown of Spain. Ferdinand, in order to procure a blessing, of which, from
his advanced age, and the intemperance of his youth, he could have little
prospect, had recourse to his physicians, and by their prescription took one of
those potions which are supposed to add vigour to the constitution, though
they more frequently prove fatal to it. This was its effect on a frame so
feeble and exhausted as that of Ferdinand ; for though he sarvivcd a violent
disorder which it at first occasioned, it brought on such an habitual langour
and dejection of mind, as rendered him averse from any serious attention to

gublic affairs, and fond of frivolous amusements, on which he had not
itherto bestowed much time.-' Though he now despaired of having any son
of his own, his jealousy of the archduke did not abate, nor could he help
viewing him with that aversion which princes often bear to their successors
[1515]. In order to gratify tliis unnatural passion, he made a will, appointing
prince Ferdinand, who, having been born and educated in Spain, was much
beloved by the Spaniards, to be regent of all his kingdoms, until the arrival
of the archduke his brother ; and by the same deed he settled upon him the
grand-mastership of the three military orders. The former of these grants
might have put it in the power of the young prince to have disputed the throne
with his brother ; the latter would, in any event, have rendered him ahnost
independent of him.

Ferdinand retained to the last that jealous love of power which was so
remarkable through his whole life. UnwiUiag, even at tne approach of death,
to admit a thought of rehnquishing any portion of his authority, he removed
continually from place to place, in order to fly from his distemper, or to forget
it. Though his strength declined every day, none of his attendants durst
mention his condition ; nor would he admit his father-confessor, who thought
such silence criminal and unchristian, into his presence. At last the danger
became so imminent, that it could be no longer concealed. Ferdinand received
the intimation with a decent fortitude; and touched, perhaps, with com-
punction at the injustice which he had done his grandson, or influenced by
the honest remonstrances of Carvajal, Zapara, and Vargas, his most ancient
and faithful councillors, who represented to him that, by investing prince
Ferdinand with the regency, he would infallibly entail a civil war on the two
brothers, and by bestowing on him the grand-mastership of the military
orders, would strip the crown of its noblest ornament and chief strength,
he consented to alter his will with re sped, to both these particulars. By a
new deed he left Charles the sole hou- of all his dominions, and allotted to
Prince Ferdinand^ instead of that throne of which he thought liimself almost
secure, an inconsiderable establishment of fifty thousand ducats a-year.-^ He
died a few hours after signing this will, on the twenty-third day of Januaiy,
one thousand five hundred and sixteen.

[1516.] Charles, to whom such a noble inheritance descended by his death,
was near the full age of sixteen. He had hitherto resided in the Low Coun-
tries, his paternal dominions. Margaret of Austria, his aunt, and Margaret
of York, the sister of Edward IV. of England, and widow of Charles the Bold,
two princesses of great virtue and abilities, had the care of forming his early
youth. Upon the death of his fathei-, the Flemings committed the goyem-
aaent of the Low Countries to his grandfather, the emperor Maximilian,

2^ Zurita, Anales de Arag. vi. p. 347. P. Mart. Ep. 631. Argensola, Anales de Aragon,
lib. i. p. 4.

2« Mar. Hist. lib. 30, ch. ult. Zurita, Anales de Arag. vi. p. 401, P. Mart. Ep. 565,
666. Argensola, Anales de Arag. lib. i. p. 11.

BOOK 1.1 EDUCATION D3^ CHARLES. ' ^

k

with the name rather than the authority of regent.'o Maximilian made choice
of William dc Croy, lord of Chievres. to superintend the education of the
young prince his grandson.^" That nobleman possessed, in an eminent degree,
the tcdeuts which fitted liim for such an important office, acd discharged the
duties of it with great iidelity. Under Cliicvres, Adrian of Utrecht acted as
preceptor. This preferment, wliieh opened his way to the highest dignities
an ecclesiastic can attain, he owed not to his birth, for that was extremely
mean ; nor to his interest, for he was a stranger to the arts of a court ; but
to the opinion wliich liis countrymen entertained of his learning. He was
indeed no inconsiderable proficient in those frivolous sciences which, during
several centuries, assumed the name of philosophy, and had published a com-
mentary, which was highly esteemed, upon The Book of Sentences, a famous
treatise of Petrus Lombardus, considered at that time as the standard
system of metaphysical theology. But whatever admiration these procured
him in an illiterate age, it was soon found that a man accustomed to the
retu'cment of a college, unacquainted with the, world, and without any
tincture of taste or elegance, was by no means qualified for rendering
science agreeable to a young prince. Charles, accordingly, discovered an
early aversion to learning, and an excessive fondness for those violent and
martial exercises, to excel in which was the chief pride. And almost the only
study, of persons of rank in that age. Chievres encouraged tliis taste, either.
from a desire of gaining his pupil by indulgence, or from too slight an opinion\
of the advantages of hterary accomplishments.^' He instructed him, how« 1

-^ Pontius Heuterus, Rerum Austriacartim, lib. xv, Lov. 1649, lib. vii. ch. 2, p. 155.

^° The French historians, upon the authority of M. de Bellay, Mdm. p. 11, have unani-
mously asserted that Philip, by his last will, having appomted the king of France to have
the direction of his son's education, Louis XII., with a disinterestedness suitable to the
confidence reposed in him, named Chievres for that office. Even the president H«?nault
has adopted this opinion. Abrege Chron. 1507. Varillas, in his usual manner, pretends
to have seen Phihp's testament. Pract. de I'Education des Princes, p. 16. But the
Spanish, German, and Flemish historians concur m contradicting this assertion of the
Trench authors. It appears from Heuterus, a contemporary Flemish historian of great
authority, that Louis XIL, by consenting to the marr^ge of Germuine de Foix with
Ferdinand, had lost much of that confidence which Philip once placed in him ; that his
disgust was increased by the French king's giving in raarriage to the count of An-
gouleme his eldest daughter, whom he had formerly betrothed to Charles (Heuter. Per.
Austr. lib. v. p. 151); that the French, a short time before Philip's death, had violated
the peace which subsisted between them and the Flemings, &nd Philip had complained of
this injury, and was ready to resent it. Heuter. ibid. All these circumstances render
it improbable that Philip, who made his will a few days before he died (Heuter. p. 152),
should commit the education of his son to Louis XII. In confirmation of these plausible
conjectures, positive testimony can be produced. It appears fi^;m Heuterus, that Philip,
when he set out for Spain, had entrusted Chievres both with the care of his son's edu-
cation, and with the government of his dominions in the Low Countries (Heuter. fib. vii.
p. 154) ; that an attempt was made, soon after Philip's death, to have the emperor
Maxim.ilian appointed regent during the minority of his grandson, but this being opposed,
Chievres seems to have continued to discharge both the offices which Philip had com-
mitted to him (Heuter. ibid. pp. 153, 155) ; that in the beginning of the year 1508,
the Flemings invited ]Maximilian to accept of the regency, to which he consented, and
appointed his daughter Margaret, together with a council of Flemings, to exercise the
supreme authority, when he himself should at any time be absent. He likewise named
Chievres as governor, and Adrian of Utrecht as preceptor to his son. Heut. ibid. pp.
155, 157. What Heuterus relates with respect to this matter is confirmed by ^loringus,
in Vita Adrian! apud Analecta Casp. Burmanni de Adriano, ch. 10; by Barlandus,
Chronic. Brabant, ibid, p. 25, and by Haraeus, Annal. Brab. vol. ii. p. 520, &c.

31 Jovii Vita Adriani, p. 91, Struvii Corpus Hist. Germ. ii. 967. P. Heuter. Ker. Austr.
lib. rl 'Jz. 3, p. 157.

98 STATE OF SPAIN, [BOOK I.

ever, with great care in the arts of government; he made him study the
jhistory, not only of his own kingdoms, but of those with which they were
connected ; he accustomed him, from the time of xiis assuming the government
of Flanders, in the year one thousand five hundred and fifteen, to attend to
business ; he persuaded him to peruse all papers relating to public affairs ;
jf\U to be present at the deliberations of his privy-councillors, and to propose to
them himself those matters concerning wliich he required their opmion.^^
From such an education, Charles contracted habits of gravity and recollec-
tion which scarcely suited his time of life. The first openings of his genius
did not indicate that superiority which its maturer age displayed." He did
not discover in his youth the impetuosity of spirit which commonly ushers
in an active and enterprising manhood. Nor did his early obsequiousness
to Chievres, and his other favourites, promise that capacious and decisive
judgment wliich afterwards directed the affairs of one-half of Europe. But
his subjects, dazzled with the external accomplishments of a graceful figure
and manly address, and viewing his character with that partiality which is
always shown to princes diiring their _ youth, entertained sanguine hopes
of his adding lustre to those crowns which descended to him by the death of
Ferdinand.

The kingdoms of Spain, as is evident from the view which I have given of
their ]3olitical constitution, were at that time in a situation which required aa
administration no less vigorous than prudent. The feudal institutions,
which had been introduced into all its different provinces by the Goths, the
Suevi, and the Vandals, subsisted in great force. The nobles, who were
powerful and warlike, had long possessed all the exorbitant privileges which
these institutions vested in their order. The cities in Spain were more
numerous and more considerable than the genius of feudal government, na-
turally unfavourable to commerce and to regular police, seemed to admit.
The personal rights and political influence which the inhabitants of these
cities had acquired, were extensive. The royal prerogative, circumscribed by
the privileges of the nobility, and by the pretensions of the people, was
confined within very narrow limits. Under such a form of government, the
principles of discord were many ; the bond of union was extremely feeble ;
and Spain felt not only all the inconveniences occasioned by the defects in the
feudal system^ but was exposed to disorders arising from the peculiarities in
its own constitution.

During the long administration of Ferdinand, no internal commotion, it
is true, had arisen in Spain. His superior abilities had enabled him to restrain
the turbulence of the nobles, and to moderate the jealousy of the commons.
By the wisdom of his domestic government, by the sagacity with which he
conducted his foreign operations, and by the high opinion that his subjects
entertained of both, he had preserved among them a degree of tranquillity,
greater than was natural to a constitution in which the seeds of discord
and disorder were so copiouly mmgled. But, by the death of Ferdinand,
these restraints were at once withdrawn, and faction and discontent, from
being long repressed, were ready to break out with fiercer animosity.

In order to prevent these evils, Ferdinand had in his last will taken a
most prudent precaution, bv appointing Cardinal Ximenes, archbishop of
Toledo, to be sole regent of Castile, until the arrival of his grandson in Spain.
The singular character of this man, and the extraordinary qualities which
marked him out for that office at such a juncture, merit a particular descrip-
tion. He was descended of an honourable, not of a wealthy family ; and the

32 M^moii-es de Bellay, 8vo. Par. 1573, p. 11. P. Heuter. lib. viii. ch. 1, p. 181
8« P. Martyr, Ep. 569, 665.

BOOK I.J CAJBU)INAL XIMLSE3. 99

circumstances of his parents, as well as his own inclinations, having determined
him to cuter into the chiu'ch, he early obtained benefices of great value, and
which placed him in the way of the highest preferment. All these, however,
he renounced at once j and, after undergoing a very severe noviciate^ assumed
the habit of St. Francis in a monaster}- of Observantine friars, one ot the most
rigid orders in tlie Romish church. There he soon became eminent for his
uncommon austerity of manners, and for those excesses of superstitious devo-
tion, which are the proper characteristics of the monastic life. But, notwith-
standing these extravagauces, to which weak and enthusiastic muids alone
are usually prone, liis understanding, naturally penetrating and decisive,
retained its full \igour, and acquired him such great authority in his ovra
order, as raised him to be their provincial. His reputation for sanctity soon
procui-ed him the office of father-confessor to queen Isabella, which he
accepted with the utmost reluctance. He preserved in a court the same
austerity of maimers which had distinguished him in the cloister. He con-
tinued to make all his journeys on foot ; he subsisted only upon alms ; his acts
of mortification were as severe as ever, and his penances as rigorous. Isabella,
pleased with her choice, conferred on him, not long after, the archbishopric
of Toledo, which, next to the papacy, is the richest dignity in the ch'U'ca of
Rome. This honour he declined with the firmness which nothing V»Qt the
authoritative injunction of the pope was able to overcome. Nor did this
height of promotion change his manners. Though obliged to display in public
that magmficence which became his station, he nunseii retained his monastic
severity. _ Under his pontifical robes he constantlj^ wore the coarse frock of
St. Francis, the rents m which he used to patch with his own hands. He at
no time used linen, but was commonly clad in hair-cloth. He slept always in
his habit, most frequently on the ground, or on boards • rarely in a bed. He
did not taste any of the delicacies which appeared at his table, but satisfied
himself with that simple diet which the rule of his order prescribed.^* Not-
withstanding these peculiarities, so opposite to the maimers of the world, he
possessed a thorough knowledge of its aifairs ; and no sooner was he called
by^ his station, and Dv the high opinion which Ferdinand and Isabella enter-
tained of him, to take a principal share in the administration, than he
displayed talents for business, which rendered the fame of his wisdom equal
to that of his sanctity. His political conduct, remarkable for the boldness
and originality of all his plans, fl.owed from his real character, and partook
both of its vu-tues and its defects. His extensive genius suggested to him
schemes vast and magnificent. Conscious of the integrity of his intentions,
he pursued these with imremitting and undaunted firmness. Accustomed
from his early ^outh to mortify his own passions, he showed little indulgence
toward those of other men. Taught by his system of religion to check even
his most innocent desires, he was the enemv of everything to which he could
affix the name of elegance or pleasure. Though free from any suspicion of
cruelty, he discovered in all his commerce with the world a severe inflexibility
of mind, and austerity of character, peculiar to the monastic profession, and
which can hardly be conceived in a country where that is unknown.

Such was the man to whom Ferdinand committed the regency of Castile •
and thoudi Ximenes was then near fom*score, and peiiectly acquauitea
with the labour and difficulty of the office, his natural inti-epiclitv of mind,
and zeal for the public good, prompted him to accept of it without hesitation.
Adrian of Utrecht, who had been sent into Spaui a few months before the
death of Ferdinand, produced full powers from the archduke to assume the
name and authority of regent, upon the demise of his grandfather ; but such

" Hist, de I'Administration du Card. Xim^n. par M. Baudier, 4to. 1635, p. 13.

h8

100 CHARLES ACKKOWLEDGED AS KI^-G. [bOOK I,

was the aversion of the Spaniards to the govermnent of a stranger, and so
unequal the abilities of the two competitors, that Adrian's claim would at
once have been rejected, if Ximenes himself, from complaisance to his new
master, had not consented to acknowledge him as regent, and to cany on the
government in conjunction with him. By this, however, Adiian acquired a
dignity merely nommal._ Ximenes, though he treated liim^vith great decency,
and even respect, retained the whole power in his own hands.^*

The cardinal' "5 first care was to observe the motions of the infant Don Fer-
dinand, who, having been flattered with so near a prospect of supreme power,
bore the disappointment of his hopes with greater nnpatieuce than a prince at
a period of life so early could have been supposed to feel. Ximenes, under
pretence of providing_ more effectually for liis safety, removed him from
Guadalupe, the place in which he had been educated, to Madrid, where he
fixed the residence of the court. There he was under the cardinal's own
eye, and his conduct, vdih. that of his domestics, was watched with the utmost
attention.^®

The first intelligence he received from the Low Countries gave greater
disquiet to the cardinal, and convmced Mm how difficult a task it would be
to conduct the affairs of an inexperienced prince, under the influence of
councillors unacquainted with the laws and manners of Spain. No sooner
did the account of Eerdinaud's death reach Brussels, than Charles, by the
advice of his Flemish ministers, resolved to assmne the title of king. By
the laws of Spain, the sole right of the crowns both of Castile and of Aragon,
belonged to Joaima ; and though her infirmities disqualified her from
governing, this incapacity had not been declared by any public act of the
cortes in either kingdom ; so that the Spaniards considered this resolution
not only as a direct violation of their priAoleges, but as an unnatural usui'pa-
tion in a son on the prerogatives of a mother, towards whom in her present
unhappy situation, he manifested a less delicate regard than her subjects had
always expressed ^^ The Flemish court, however, having prevailed both on
the i^ope and on the emperor to address letters to Charles as king of Castile,
the former of whom, it was pretended, had a right, as head of the church,
and the latter as head of the empire, to confer this title, instructions were
sent to Ximenes to prevail on the Spaniards to acknowledge it. Ximenes,
though he had earnestly remonstrated against the measui-e, as no less un-
popular than unnecessary, resolved to_ exert all his authority and credit in
carrying it into execution, and immediately assembled such of the nobles as
were then at court. "What Charles required was laid before them ; and when,
instead of compljing with liis demands, they began to murmur against such
an unprecedented encroachment on their privileges, and to talk high of
the rights of Joanna, and their oath of allegiance to her, Ximenes hastily
interposed, and, with that firm and decisive tone, whicli was natural to him,
told them that they were not called now to deliberate, but to obey; that their
sovereign did not apply to them for advice, but expected submission ; and
*' tliis day," added he, " Charles shall be proclaimed king of Castile in Madrid ;
and the rest of the cities, I doubt not, will follow its example." On the
s;i^ot he gave orders for that purpose ;^'^ and, notwithstanding the novelty
ot the practice, and the secret discontents of many persons of distinction,
Charles's title was universally recognised. In Aragon, where the privileges
of the subject were more extensive, and the abilities as well as authority of

»5 Gometius de Reb. Gest. Ximenii, p. 150, fol. Compl. 1569.

3s Mini^nae Contin. Marianae, lib. i. cL 2. Baudier, Hist, de Ximenes, p. 118.

»• P. Mart. Ep. 568. ,

'^ Gometius, p. 152, &c. Baudier Hist, de Xim^u. p. 121.

BOOK I.] XIMENES STRENGTHENS TUP. ROYAL POWER, 101

the archbishop of Saragossa, whom Ferdinand had appointed recent, were far
inferior to those of Ximenes, the same obsequiousness to the will of Charles
did not appear, nor was he acknowledged there under any other character but
that of prince, until his arrival in Spain.'®

Xiinenes, though possessed only of delegated power, which, from his ad-
vanced age, he coula not expect to enjoy long, assumed, together with the
character of regent, all the ideas natural to a monarch, and adopted schemes
for extending the regal authority which he pursued with as much intrepidity
and ardour, as if he himself had been to reaj) the advantages resulting from
their success. The exorbitant privileges of the Castilian nobles, circum-
scribed the prerogative of the prince within very narrow limits. The pri-
vileges the cardinal considered as so many unjust extortions from the crown,
and determined to abridge them. Dangerous as the attempt was, there were
circumstances in his situation which promised him greater success than any
king of CastUe could have expected. His strict and prudent economv of his
archiepiscopal revenues, furnished him with more ready money than the
crown could at any time command ^ the sanctity of his manners, his charity

|,d munificence, rendered him the idol of the people ; and the nobles them-
Ives, not suspecting any danger from him, did not observe his motions
ith the same jealous attention as they would have watched those of one of
eir monarchs.
Immediately upon his accession to the regency, several of the nobles,
acyin» that the reins of government would, of consequence, be some-
what relaxed, began to assemble their vassals, and to prosecute by force of
arms, private quarrels and pretensions, which the authority of Ferdinand
had olniged them to dissemble, or to relinquish. But Ximenes, who had
taken into pay a good body of troops, opposed and defeated all their designs
with unexpected vigour and facility ; and though he did not treat the authors
of these disorders with any cruelty, he forced them to acts of submission,
extvemelv mortifying to the haughty spirit of Castilian grandees.

But while the' cardinal's attacks were confined to individuals, and rvery
act of rigour was justified by the appearance of necessity, founded on the
forms of justice, and tempered with a mixture of lenity, there was scarcely
room for jealousy or complaint. It was not so with his next measure, which,
by striking at a privilege essential to the nobility, gave a general alarm to the
whole order. By the leudal constitution, the military power was lodged in
the hands of the nobles, and men of an inferior condition were called into
the field only as their vassals, and to follow their banners. A king, with
scanty revenues and a limited prerogative, depended on these potent barons
in all his operations. It was with their forces he attacked his enemies, and
with them he defended his kingdom. While at the head of troops attached
warmly to their own immediate lords, and accustomed to obey no other com-
mands, his authority was precarious, and his efforts feeble. From this state
Ximenes resolved to deliver the crown; and as mercenary standing armies
were unknown under the feudal government, and would have been odious to
a martial and generous people, he issued a proclamation, commanding every
city in Castile to enrol a certain number of its burgesses, in order that they
might be trained to the use of anns on Sundays and holidays ; he engaged
to provide officers to command them at the public expense ; and, as an en-
couragement to the private men, promised them an exem^)tion from all taxes
and imj)ositions. The frequent iucui-sions of' the Moors from Africa, and the
necessity of having some force always ready to oppose them, furnished a
plausible pretence for this innovation. The object really in view was to

»9 P. Mart. Ep 67a-

102 ADMINISTRATION OF XIMEXES [BOOK I.

secure the king a body of troops independent of his barons, and which might
serve to counterbalance their power.*" The nobles were not slow in per-
ceiving what was his intention, and saw how elfectuallythe scheme which
he had adopted would accomplish his end ; but as a measure which had the
pious appearance of resisting the progress of the infidels was extremely

gopular, and as any opposition to it, arising from their order alone, would
ave been imputed wholly to interested motives, they endeavoured to excite
the cities themselves to refuse obedience, and to iiiveigh against the procla-
mation as inconsistent with their charters and privileges. In consequence
of their instigations, Burgos, Yalladolid, and several other cities, rose in open
mutiny. Some of the grandees declared themselves their protectors. Violent
remonstrances were presented to the king. His Flemish councillors were
alarmed. Ximenes alone continued firm and undaunted; aud partly by
terror, partly by entreaty, by force in some instances, and by forbearance
in others, he prevailed on all the refractory cities to comply.*^ During his
administration, he continued to execute his plan with vigour ; but soon after
his death it was entirely dropped.

His success in this scheme for reducing the exorbitant ppwer of the nobility,
encouraged him to attempt a diminution of their jDossessions, which were no
less exorbitant. During the contests and disorders inseparable from the feudal
government, the nobles, ever attentive to their own interest, and taking ad-
vantage of the weakness or distress of their monarchs, had seized some parts
of the royal demesnes, obtained grants of others, _ and, having gradually
wrested almost the whole out of the hands of the prince, had annexed them
to their own estates. The titles, b;^ which most of the grandees held these
lands, were extremely defective; it was from some successful usurpation
which the crown had been too feeble to dispute, that many derived their only
claim to possession. An inqury carried back to the origin of these encroach-
ments, wliich were almost coeval with the feudal system, was impracticable ;
and, as it would have stripped every nobleman in Spain of great part of his
lands, it must have excited a general revolt. Such a step was too bold,
even for the enterprising spirit of Ximenes. He confined himself to the
reign of Ferdinand ; and, beginning with the pensions granted during that
time, refused to make any farther payment, because all right to them expired
with his life. He then called to account such as had acquired crown lands
under the administration of that monarch, and at once resumed whatever he
had alienated. The effects of these revocations extended to many persons
of high rank ; for though Ferdinand was a prince of little generositj-, yet he
and Isabella having been raised to the throne of Castile by a powerful
faction of the nobles, they were obliged to reward the zeal of their adherents
with great liberality, and the royal demesnes were their only fund for that
purpose. The addition made to the revenue of the crown by these revoca-
tions, together with Ms own frugal economy, enabled Ximenes not only to
discharge all the debts which Ferdinand had left, and to remit considerable
sums to Flanders, but to pay the officers of his new militia, and to estabhsh
magazines not only more numerous, but better furnished with artiller)'-, arms,
and warlike stores, than Spain had ever possessed in any former age.^^
The prudent and disinterested application of these sums was a full apology
to the people for the rigour with which they were exacted.

The nobles, alarmed at these repeated attacks, began to think of precautions
for the safety of their order. Many cabals were formed, loud complaints

«> Minianse Continuatio Marianse, fol. Hag. 1733, p, 3.
«i P. Mart. Ep. 55G, &c. Gometius, p. 160, &c.
« Fl^chier, Vie de Ximda. ii, p. 600.

BOOK I.l CHARACTEKISED BY ITS VIGOUE. 108

were uttered, and desperate resolutions taken ; but, before they proceeded to

extremities, they appointed some of tl: • ^ ""- •"'■ "'^- r'^^'ers,

in consequence of which t he cardinal ■■ n-ity.

The admiral of Castile, the duke de Ini , . . i : x \ento,

grandees of the first rank, were entrusted with this commission. Ximenes
received them with cold civility, and, in answer to their demand, produced the
testament of Ferdinand, by which he was appointed regent, together with
the ratification of that deed by Charles. To both these they objected; and
he endeavoured to establish their validity. As the conversation grew warm,
he led them insensibly towards a balcony, from which they had a view of a
large body of troops under arms, and of a formidable train of artillery.
"Behold," says he, pointing to these, and raising his voice, "the powers
which I have received from his catholic majesty, mth these I govern Castile ;
and with these I will govern it, until the king, your master and mine, takes
possession of his kingdom." " A declaration so bold and haughty silenced
them, and astonished their associates. To take arms against a man aware
of his danger, and prepared for his defence, was what despair alone would
dictate. All thoughts of a general confederacy against the cardinal's ad-
ministration were laid aside; and, except from some slight commotions,
excited by the private resentment of particular noblemen, the tranquillity of
Castile suffered no interruption.

It was not only from the opposition of the Spanish nobiKty that obstacles
arose to the execution of the cardinal's schemes ; he had a constant struggle
to maintain with the Flemish ministers, who, presuming upon their favour
with the young king, auned at directing the rifi'airs of Spain, as well as those
of their own country. Jealous of the great abilities and independent spirit
of Ximenes, they considered him rather as a rival who might circumscribe
their power, than as a minister, who, by liis prudence and vigour, was adding
to the grandeur and authority of theii* master. Every complaint against his
administration was listened to with pleasure by the courtiers in the Low
CJountries. Unnecessary obstructions were throwTi by their means' in the
way of all his measures ; and though they could not, either with decency or
safety, deprive him of the office of recent, they endeavoui-ed to lessen his
authority by dividing it. They soon discovered that Adrian of Utrecht,
already joined with him ui office, had neither genius nor spirit sufficient
to give the least check to his proceedings ; and therefore Charles, by their
advice, added to the commission of regency La Chau, a Flemish gentleman,
and afterwards Amerstoi-f, a nobleman of Holland, the former distinguished
for his address, the latter for his firmness. Ximenes, though no stranger to
the malevolent intention of the Flemish courtiers, received these new asso-
ciates with all the external marks of distinction due to the ofliee with
which they were invested; but when they came to enter upon busuiess.
he abated nothmg of that aii- of superiority with which he had treated
Adrian, and still retained the sole direction of aifaii's. The Spaniards, more
adverse, perhaps, than any other people to the government cf strangers,
approved of all his efforts to preserve his own authority. Even the nobles,
iofiuenced by this national passion, and forgetting their jealoiisies and dis-
contents, chose rather to see the supreme power ia the hands of one of their
countrjinen, whom they feared, than in those of foreigners, whom they hated.

Ximenes, though engaged in such great schemes of domestic policy, and
embarrassed by the ai"tinces and intrigues of the Flemish ministers, had the
burden of two foreign wars to support. The one was in Navarre, which was
invaded by its unfortunate monarch, John d'Albret. The death of Ferdinand,

*' Flech. ii. p. 651. Ferreras, Hifit. viii. p. 433.

i04 WAHS IN NAVAREE AND APRICA. [bOOK I,

the absence of Charles, the discord and disaiFection which reigned among the
Spanisli nobles, seemed to present liim with a favourable opportunity of re-
coverkig his dominions. The cardinal's vigilance, however, defeated a measure
so weh concerted. As he foresaw the danger to wliich that kingdom might
be exposed, one of his first acts of administration was to order tliither a
considerable body of troops. While the king was employed with one part of
his army in the siege of St. Jean Pied en Port, ViUalva, an officer of great
experience and courage, attacked the other by surprise, and cut it to pieces.
The king histautly retreated with precipitation, and an end was put to the
war." But as Navarre was fiUed at that time with towns and castles slightly
fortified and weakly garrisoned, which, beiQg unable to resist an enemy, served
only to furnish him with places of retreat, Ximenes, always bold and decisive
in his measures, ordered every one of these to be dismantled, except Pampe-
luna, the fortifications of w;hich he proposed to render very strong. To this
uncommon precaution Spain owes the possession of Navarre, The Erench,
since that period, have often entered and have as often overrun the open
country. While they were exposed to all the inconveniences attending an in-
vading army, the Spaniards have easily drawn troops from the neighbouring
provinces to oppose them ; and the Prench, having no place of any strength
to which thev could retire, have been obliged repeatedly to abandon their
conquest with as much rapidity as they gamed it.

The other war, which he carried on in Africa, against the famous adventurer
Horuc Barbarossa, who, from a private corsair, raised himself, by his singular
valour and address, to be king of Algiers and Tunis, was far from being
equally successful. The ill conduct of the Spanish general, and the rash valour
of his troops, presented Barbarossa with an easy victory. Many perished in
the battle, more in the retreat, and the remamder returned into Spain covered,
vith infamy. The magnaminity, however, with which the cardinal bore this
iisgrace, the only one he experienced during his administration, added new
jHistre to his character.^^ Great composure of temper under a disappointment
was not expected from a man so remarkable for the eagerness and unpatience
with which he urged on the execution of aR his schemes.

This disaster was soon forgotten ; while the conduct of the Flemish court
proved the cause of constant uneasiness, not only to the cardinal, but to the
whole Spanish nation. Ail the great qualities of Chievres, the prime minister
and favourite of the youn^ king, were sulHed with an ignoble and sordid
avarice. The accession of ms master to the crown of Spain opened a new and
copious source for the gratification of this passion. Durmg the time of
Charles's residence in Planders, the whole tribe of pretenders to offices or to
favour resorted thither. They soon discovered that, without the patronage
of Chievres, it was vain to hope for preferment ; nor did they want sagacity
to find out the proper method of securing his protection. Great sums of
money were drawn out of Spam. Everything was venal, and disposed of to
the highest bidder. After the example of Chievres, the inferior Plemish
ministers engaged in this traffic, which became as general and avowed, as it
was infamous.*'^ The Spaniards were filled with rage when they beheld offices
of great importance to the welfare of their country, set to sale by strangers,
unconcemed for its honour or its happiness. Ximenes, disinterested in his
whole administration, and a stranger, from his native grandeur of mind, to
the passion of avarice, inveighed with the utmost boldness against the venality
of the Plemings. He represented to the king, in strong terms, the muruiiurs
and indignation which their bebavioor e5.citea among a free and high-spirited

** P. Mart. Ep. 570. «5 Gometms, .'ib vi. p. 179.

*^ MiuJana, Coiit.'?. lib !U ch. 2. "

1

I

BOOK I.] PEACE WITH FRAKCE. 106

jicople, and besought him to set out witliout loss of time for Spain, tliit, by
Ids presence, he might dissipate the clouds wliich -were gathering all over tho
kingdom.*'

Cliarles was fully sensible that he had delaved too long to take possession
of Ids dominions in Spain. Powerful 9bstacles, however, stood in his way,
and detained him in the Low Countries. The war which the league of
Cambray had kindled in Italy, still subsisted ; tiiough, during its course, the
armies of all the parties engaged in it had changed their destination and
then: objects. Erance was npw in alliance with Venice, which it hud at tirst
combined to destroy. Maximilian and Ferdinand had for some years carried on
hostilities against li-ance, then: original ally, to the valour of whose troops the
confederacy had been indebted iu a ^reat measure for its success. Together
with his kingdoms, Eerdiuaud transmitted this war to his grandson ; and^ there
was reason to expect that Maximilian, always fond of new enterprises, would
persuade the young monarch to enter into it with ardour. But tne Flemings,
who had lon^ possessed an extensive commerce, which, during the league oi
Cambray, had grown to a great height upon the ruins of the Venetiaji l;rade,
dreaded'a rupture with Fi-ance ; and ChievTcs, sagicious to discern the trae in-
terest of his country, and not warped on this occasion by his love of wealth,
warmly declared for maintaining peace with the French nation. Francis I.
destitute of allies, and solicitous to secure his late conquests in Italv by a
treaty, listened with joy to the first overtures of accommodation. Cldevres
Idmself conducted the negotiation in the name of Charles. Gouffier appeared
as plenipotentiaiy for Francis. Each of them had presided over the education
of the prince whom he represented. They had both adopted the same pacific
system; and were equally persuaded that the imion of the two monarchs was
the happiest event for themselves, as well as for their kingdoms. In such
hands, the negotiation did not langidsh. A few days after opening their con-
ferences at Noyon, they concluded a treaty of confederacy and mutual de-
fence between the two monarchs; the chief articles in which were, that
Francis should give in marriage to Charles his eldest daughter, the piincess
Louise, an infant of a year old, and, as her dowry, should make over to him
all his claims and pretensions upon the kingdom of Naples • that, in consi-
deration of Charles's being already in possession of Naples, he should, until
the accomplishment of the man-iage, pay a hundred thousand crowns a-year
to the French king ; and the half of that sum annually, as long as the princess
had no cldldren ; that when Charles shall arrive in Spain, the heirs of the
king of Navarre may represent to him tlieir right to that kingdom ; and if,
after examining their claim, he does not give them satisfaction, Francis shall
be at liberty to assist them with all his forces-^^ This alliance not only united
Charles and Francis, but obliged Maximilian, who was unable alone to cope
with the French and Venetians, to enter into a treaty with those powers,
which put a final period to the bloody and tedious war that the league of
CamlDray had occasioned. Europe enjoyed a few years of universal tran-
quillity, and was indebted for that blessing to two princes, whose rivalship
and ambition kept it in perpetual discord and agitation during the remainder
of their reigns.

By the treaty of Noyon, Charles secured a safe passage into Spain. It
was not, however the interest of his Flemish ministers, that he should visit
,that kingdom soon. While he resided in Flanders the revenues of the Spanish
i crown were si)ent there, and they engi-ossed, without any competitors, all the
effects of their monarcn's generosity ; their country became the seat of go-
vernment, and all favours were dispensed by them. Of all these advantages

" P. Mart. Ep. c76. « Leonard, Kecueil des Trait^s, torn. ii. p 69.

106 CHAELES VISITS SPAII^-. [BOOK I.

they rau the risk of seeing themselves deprived, from the moment that their
sovereign entered Spain. The Spaniards would naturaUj^ assume the direction
of their own aifairs ; the Low Countries would be considered cnly as a pro-
vince of that mighty monarchy ; and they who now distributed the favoui-s of
the prmce to others, must then be content to receive them from the hands of
strangers. But what Chievres chiefly wished to avoid was, an interview be-
tween the king and Ximenes. On the one hand, the wisdom, the integrity,
and the magnanimity of that prelate, gave liim a wonderful ascendant over
the mmds of men ; and it was extremely probable that these great qualities,
added to the reverence due to his age and office, would command the respect
of a young prince, who, capable of noble and generous sentiments himself,
would, in proportion to his admii-ation of the cardinal's virtues, lessen his .
deference towards persons of another character. Or, on the other hand, if
Charles should allow his Elemish favourites to retain all the influence over
Ms councils which they at present possessed, it was easy to foresee that the
cardiaal would remonstrate loudly against such an indignity to the Spanish
nation, and vindicate the rights of his country with the same intrepidity and
success with which he had asserted the prerogatives of the crown. For these
reasons, all his Flemish councillors combined to retard his departure; and
Charles, unsuspicious from want of experience, and fond of his native country,
suffered himself to be unnecessarily detained in the Netherlands a whole year
after signing the treaty of Noyon.

The repeated entreaties of Ximenes, the advice of his grandfather Maxi-
milian, and the impatient murmurs of his Spanish subjects, prevailed on him
at last to embark. [1517.] He was attended not only by Chievres, his prime
minister, but by a numerous and si)lendid train of the Flemish nobles, fond of
beholding the grandeur, or of sharing in the bounty of their prince. After a
dangerous voyage, he landed at Yilla Viciosa, in the province of Asturias, and
was received with such loud acclamations of joy as a new monarch, whose ar-
rival was so ardently desired, had reason to expect. The Spanish nobility
resorted to their sovereign from all parts of the kingdom, and displayed a
magnificence which the Flemings were unable to emulate. ^^

Ximenes, who considered the presence of the king as the greatest blessing
to his dominions, was advancing towards the coast, as fast as the infirm state
of his health would permit, in order to receive him. Daring his regency,
and notwithstanding his extreme old age, he had abated, in no degree, the
rigour or frequency of his mortifications ; and to these he added such la-
borious assiduity in business, as would have worn out the most youthful and
vigorous constitution. Every day he employed several hours in devotion;
he celebrated mass in person ; he even allotted some space for study. Not-
withstanding these occupations, he regularly attended the council ; he re-
ceived and read all papers presented to him ; he dictated letters and instruc-
tions; and took under his iiispection all business, civil, ecclesiastical, or
military. Every moment of his time was filled up ^dth some serious employ-
ment. The only amusement in which he indulged himself, by way of relaxation
after business, was to canvass, with a few friars and other divines, some in-
tricate article in scholastic theology. Wasted by such a course of life, the
infirmities of age daily grew upon him. On his journey, a violent disorder
seized him at Bos EquiUos, attended with uncommon symptoms, which his
followers considered as the efi'ect of poisou,^*^ but could not agree whether
the crime ought to be imputed to the hatred of the Spanish nobles, or to the
mahce of the Flemish courtiers. This accident obhging him to stop short,
he wrote to Charles, and with his usual boldness advised him to dismiss all

« P. Mart. Ep, 599, 601. 8o Miniana, Contin. lib. 5. cli. 3.

BOOK I.J DEATU OF XIMENES. 107

the straii2:er3 in his train, whose numbers and credit gave offence already to
the Spaniards, and would ere lou^ alienate the aii'ections of the whole people.
At the same time, he earnestly desired to have an interview with the kin^,
that he miffht ioibrra him of the state of the nation, and the temper of his
subjects. To prevent this, not only the Flemings, but the Spanish grandees,
employed all their address, and industriously kept Charles at a distance from
Aranda, the place to which the cardinal had removed. Through their sug-
gestions, every measure that he recommended was rejected, the utmost care
was taken to make him feel, and to point out to the whole nation, that his
power was on the decline • even in things purely trivial, such a choice was
always made as was deemed most disagreeable to liim. Ximenes did not bear
tliis treatment with his usud fortitudfe of spirit. Conscious of liis own in-
tegrity and merit, he expected a more gratelul return from a prince to whom
he delivered a kingdom more flourishing than it had been in any fonner age,
together with authority more extensive and better established than the most
iiiustrious of his ancestors had ever possessed. He could not, therefore, on
manv occasions, refrain from giving vent to his indignation and complaints.
He lamented the fate of his country, and foretold the calamities which it
woidd suii'er from the insolence, the rapaciousness, and ignorance of strangers.
While his mind was agitated by these passions, he received a letter from the
king, in which, after a few cold and formal expressions of regard, he was al-
lowed to retire to liis diocese, that, after a life of such continued labour, he
might end his days in tranquillity. This message proved fatal to Ximenes.
His haughty mind, it is probable, could not surnve disgrace ; perhaps his
generous heart could not bear the prospect of the misfortunes ready to fall
on his country. Wliichsoever of these opinions we embrace, certain it is that
he expired a few hours after reading the letter.^^ The variety, the grandeur,
and the success of his schemes, during a regency of only twenty months, leave
it doubtful whether his sagacity in counsel, his prudence in conduct, or his
boldness^ in execution, deseiTC the gi-eatest praise. His reputation is still
liigh in Spain, not only for ^nsdom, but for sanctity ; and he is the only prime
laiuister mentioned in liistory whom his contemporaries reverenced as a saint, ^^
and to whom the people under his government ascribed the power of working
miracles.

[1518.] Soon after the death of Ximenes, Charles made his public entry,
with great pomp, into Valladolid, whither he had summoned the cortes or
Castile. Though he assumed on all occasions the name of king, that title had
never been acknowledged in the cortes. The Spaniards, considering Joanna
as possessed of the sole right to the crown, and no example of a son's having
enjoyed the title of king during the life of Ms parents occurring in their
liistoiy, the cortes discovered all that scrupulous respect for ancient forms,
:ind that aversion to innovation, which are conspicuous in popular assem-
blies. The presence, however, of their prince, the address, the artifices, and
the threats of his ministers, prevailed on them at last to proclaim him king,
in conjunction with his mother, whose name they appointed to be placed
before that of her son in all public acts. But when they made this conces-
sion, they declared that if, at any future period, Joanna should recover the
exercise of reason, the whole authority should return into her hands. At the
same time, they voted a free gift of six hundred thousand ducats to be paid
in three years, a sum more considerable than had ever been granted to any
former monarch."

SI Marsollier, Vie de Ximenes, p. 447. Gometius, lib. vii. p. 20G, o:c. Baudier, Hist,
de XiiTidii. ii. p. 208. 52 Fl^chier, Vie de Ximdn. ii. p. 748.

w Miniana, Contin. lib. i. ch. 3. P. Mart. Ep. COS. Sandov. p. 12.

108 DISCONTENT OF THE CASTILIANS. [BOOK I.

Notwithstanding this obsequiousness of the cortes to the will of the kin??,
the most violent symptoms of dissatisfaction with his government began
to break out in the kmgdom. Chievres had acquired over the mind of the
young monarch the ascendant not only of a tutor, but of a parent. ^ Charles
seemed to have no sentiments but those which his minister inspired, and
scarcely uttered a word but what he put into his mouth. He was constantly
surrounded by Flemings ; no person got access to him without their permis-
sion ; nor was any admitted to audience but in their presence. As he spoke
the Spanish language very imperfectly, his answers were always extremely
short, and often delivered with hesitation, Erom all these circumstances,
many of the Spaniards were led to believe that he was a prince of a slow and
narrow genius. Some pretended to discover a strong resemblance between
him and his mother, and began to whisper that his capacity for government
would never be far superior to hers ; and though they who had the best
opportunity of judging concerning his character maintaiaed that, notwith-
standing such unpromising appearances, he possessed a large fund of know-
ledge as well as of sagacity,^* yet all agreed in condemning his partiality to-
wards the Elemings, and his attachment to his favourites, as unreasonable and
immoderate. Unfortunately for Charles, these favourites were unworthy
of his confidence. To amass wealth seems to have been their only aim ; and
as they had reason to fear that either their master's good sense, or the indig-
nation of the Spaniards, might soon abridge their power, they hastened to im-
prove the present opportunity, and their avarice was the more rapacious, be-
cause they expected their authority to be of no longer duration. All honours,
offices, and benefices, were either engrossed by the Elemiugs, or pubHcly
sold by them. Chievres, his wife, and Sauvage, whom Charles, on the death
of Xunenes, had imprudently raised to be Chancellor of CastUe, vied with
each other in aU the refinements of extortion and venality. Not only the
Spanish historians, who, from resentment, may be suspected of exaggera-
tion, but Peter Martyr Angleria, an Italian, who resided at that time in the
court of Spain, and was under no temptation to deceive the persons to
whom his letters are addressed, give a description which is almost incre-
dible, of the insatiable and shameless covetousness of the Flemings. Ac-
cordiiig to Angleria' s calculation, which he asserts to be extremely mode-
rate, they remitted into the Low Countries, in the space of ten months, no
less a sum than a million and one hundred thousand ducats. The nomina-
tion of William de Croy, Chievres' nephew, a young man not of canonical age,
to the archbishopric of Toledo, exasperated the Spaniards more than all
these exactions. They considered the elevation of a stranger to the head of
their church, and to the richest benefice in the kingdom, not only as an injury,
but as an insult to the whole nation ; both clergy and laity, the former from
interest, the latter from indignation, joined in exclaiming against it."

Charles, leaving Castile thus disgusted with his administration, set out for
Sara^ossa, the capital of Aragon, that he might be present in the cortes of
that kingdom. On his way thither, he took leave of his brother Ferdinand,
whom he sent into Germany on the pretence of visiting their grandfather,
Maximilian, in his old age. To this prudent precaution Charles owed the
preservation of his Spanish dominions. During the violent commotions which
arose there soon after this period, the Spaniards would infallibly have offered
the crown to a prmce who was the darling of the whole nation; nor did Fer-
dinand want amoition, or councillors, that might have prompted him to accept
of the offer.*®

5* Sandoval, p. 31. P. Mart. Ep. 655.

55 Sandoval, pp. 28—31. P. Mart. Ep. 608, 611, 618, 614, 622, 623, 639. Miniana,
Contin. lib. i. ch. 3, p. 8. »« P. Martyr Ep, 619. Ferreras, viii. p. 460.

BOOK I.] THE AEAGONESE. 109

The Aragonese had not hitherto acknowledged Charles as king, nor would
they allow the cortes to be assembled in his name, but in that of the justiza,
to whom, during an inten'e"ntiiim, this privilege belonged." The opposition
Charles nad to struggle with in the cortes of Aragon, was more violent and
obstinate than that wliich lie had overcome in Castile : after long delays, how-
ever, and with much ditiiculty, he persuaded the members to confer on him
the title of king, in conjunction with his mother. At the same time, he bound
liimself by that solemn oath, which the Aragonese exacted of their kings,
never to violate any of their rights or liberties. When a donative was de-
manded, the members were still more intractable; many months elapsed
before tney woidd agree to grant Charles two hundred thousand ducats, and
that sum they appropriated so strictly for paying debts of the crown, which
had long been forgotten, that a very small part of it came into the king's
liands. What had happened in Castue taught them caution, and determined
them rather to satisfy the claims of their fellow-citizens, how obsolete soever,
than to fumisli strangers the means of enriching themselves with the spoils
of their eountry.^^

During these proceedings of the cortes, ambassadors arrived at Sara^ossa
from Prancis I. and the young king of Navarre, demanding the restitution of
that kingdom in terms oi the treaty of Noyon. But neither Charles, nor the
Castilian nobles whom he consulted on this occasion, discovered any inclina-
tion to part with tliis acquisition. A conference held soon after at Mont-
p61ier, in order to bring this matter to an amicable issue, was altogether
fruitless ; while the Erench urged the injustice of the usurpation, the Spaniards
were attentive only to its importance.*^

[1519.] From Aragon, Charles proceeded to Catalonia, where he wasted
much time, encountered more difficulties, and gained less money. The Flem-
ings were now become so odious in every province in Spain by their exac-
tions, that the desire of mortifying them, and of disappointing their avarice,
augmented the jealousy with which a free people usually conduct their deli-
berations.

The Castilians, who had felt most sensibly the weight and rigour of the op-
pressive schemes carried on by the Flemings, resolved no longer to submit
with a tameness fatal to themselves, and which rendered them the objects
of scorn to their fellow-subjects in the other kingdoms, of which the Spaiiish
monarchy was composed. Segovia. Toledo, Seville, and several other cities
of the first rani:, entered into a confederacy for the defence of their rights and
privileges- and, notwithstanding the silence of the nobility, who, on tliis
occasion, discovered neither the public spirit nor the resolution wliich be-
came their order, the confederates laid before the kin^ a full view of the state
of the kingdom, and of the mal-administration of his favourites. The pre-
ferment of strangers, the exportation of the cun-ent coin, the increase of
taxes, were the grievanees of which they chiefly complained : and of these they
demanded redress with that boldness which is natural to a free people. These
remonstrances, presented at first at Saragossa, and renewed afterwards at
Barcelona, Charles treated with gre^t neglect. The confederacy, however, of
these cities, at tliis juncture, was the beginning of that famous union among
tl>e commons of Castile, which not long after threw the kingdom into such
violent convulsions as shook the throne, and almost overturned the consti-
tution.60

Soon after Charles's arrival at Barcelona, he received the account of an
event which interested him much more than the murmurs of the Castilians,

" P. Martvr, Ep. 605. ss p. Martyr, Ep. 615—634.

•• P. Martyr, Ep. 605, 633, 640. «» Ibid. 630. Ferreras, viiL p. 464.

110 DEATH OF THE EMPEEOB, MAXIMILIA23. [BOOK I.

or the scruples of the coi-tes of Catalonia. This was the death of the Emperor
Maximilian ; an occurrence of small importance in itself, for he vm a prmce
conspicuous neither for his virtues, nor his power, nor his abilities; but
rendered by its consequences more memorable than any that had happened
during several ages. _ it broke that profound and miiversal peace which then
reigned in the Christian world ; it excited a rivalship between two princes,
wmcli threw all Europe into agitation, and kindled wars more general, and
of longer dilation, than had hitherto been known in modern times.

The revolutions occasioned by the expedition of the Erench king, Charles
VIII., into Italy, had inspired the Eui-opean princes with new ideas con-
cerning the importance of the imperial dignity. The claims of the empire
upon some of the Italian states were numerous ; its jurisdiction over others
was extensive; and though the former had been almost abandoned, and the
latter seldom exercised, under princes of slender abilities and of little in-
fluence, it vv'as obvious, that in the hands of an emperor possessed of power
or of genius, they might be employed as engines for stretching his dominion
over the greater part of that countrj^. Even Maximilian, feeble and unsteady
as his conduct always was, had availed himself of the infinite pretensions of
the empire, and had reaped advantage from every war and evei-y negotiation
in Italy during his reign. These considerations, added to the dignity of the
station, confessedly the first among Christian princes, and to the rights
inherent in the office, which, if exerted with vigour, were far from being
inconsiderable, rendered the imperial crown more than ever an object of
ambition.

Not long before his death, Maximilian had discovered great solicitude to
preserve this dignity hi the Austrian family, and to procure the khig of
Spain to be chosen his successor. But he himself having never been crowned
by the pope, a ceremony deemed essential in that age, was considered only as
emperor elect. Though historians have not attended to that distinction,
neither the Italian nor German chancery bestowed any other title upon him
than that of king of the Romans ; and no example occurring in history of
any person's bemg chosen a successor to a king of the Romans, the Germans,
always tenacious of their forms, and unwilling to confer upon Charles an
office for wliich their cpnstitution knew no name, obstinately refused to gratify
Maximilian in that point.^'
^ By his death, this difficulty was at once removed, and Charles openly
I aspired to that dignity which his grandfather attempted, without success,
I to secure for him. _ At the same tune Erancis L, a powerful rival, entered
' the lists against liim • and the attention of all Europe was fixed upon this
competition, no less illustrious from the high rank of the candidates, than
from the importance of the prize for which they contended. Each of them
urged his pretensions with sanguine expectations, and with no unpromising
prospect of success. Charles considered the imperial crown as belonging to
him of right, from its long continuance m the Austrian line; he knew that
none of the German prmces possessed power or influence enough to appeal' as
his antagonist ; he flattered himseK that no consideration would induce the
natives of Germany to exalt any foreign prmce to a dignity, which dui-ing
so many ages had been deemed peculiar to their own nation ; and, least of
all, that they would confer this nonoui- upon Francis I., the sovereign of a
people whose genius, and laws, and maimers, differed so widely from those of
the Germans, that it was hardly possible to estabhsh any cordial union be-
tween them : he trusted not a little to

the effect of Maxhniian's negotiations,

endr, d'Allemagne, par P. Barre, torn,
part 1, p. 1087 P. Heuter. Ker. Austr. lib. vii. ch. 17, 179, lib. viii ch. 2 p \^

«i Guicciardini, lib. xiii. p.^5. Hist. Gendr, d'Allemagne, par P. Barre, torn. viii.
Austr. lib. vii. ch. 17, 179. lib. viii ch. 2 d \^

BOOK I.] CHAHLES AND FRANCIS COMPETITOES FOR THE EMPIRE. Ill

which, though thev did not attain their ends, had prepared the minds of the
Germans for his elevation to the imperial throne ; but what he relied on as
a chief recommendation, was the fortunate situation of his hereditary domi-
nions in Germany, whicn served as a natural barrier to the empire against
the encroachments of the Turkish power. The conquests, the abiUties, and
the ambition of Sultan Sclim II. had spread over Europe, at that time, a
general and weU-foimded alarm. By his victories over the Mamelukes, and
the extirpation of that gallant body of men, he had not only added Egjpt an^
Syria to nis empire, but had secured to it such a degree of internal tran-
quillity, that he was ready to turn against Christendom the whole force of
his arms, which nothiug hitherto had been able to resist. The most effectual
expedient for stopping the progress of this torrent, seemed to be the elec
tion of an emperor, possessed ot extensive territories iu that country, where
its first impression would be felt, and who, besides, could combat this for-
midable enemy with all the forces of a powerful monarchy, and with all the
wealth furnished by the mines of the new world, or the commerce of the Low
Countries. These were the arguments by which Charles pubUcly supported
his claim ; and to men of integrity and reflection, they appeared to be not
only plausible but convincing. He did not, however, trust the success of his
cause to these alone. Gi-eat sums of money were remitted from Spain ; all
the refinements and artifices of negotiation were employed ; and a consider-
able body of troops, kept on foot at that time by the states of the circle of
Suabia, was secretly taken into his pay. The venal were gained by presents ;
the objections of the more scrupulous were answered or eluded ; some feeble
princes were threatened or overawed.*^^

On the other hand, Prancis supported his claim with equal eagerness, and
no less confidence of its being well founded. His emissaries contended that
it was now high time to conviuce tlie princes of the house of Austria that the
imperial crown was elective and not hereditary; that other persons might
aspire to an honour which their arrogance had accustomed them to regard as
the property of their family ; that it required a sovereign of mature judgment,
and 01^ approved abilities, to hold the reins of govermnent in a country
where suen unknown opinions concerning religion had been published, as had
thrown the minds of men into an uncommon agitation, which threatened the
most violent effects ; that a young prince without experience, and who had
hitherto given no specimens of liis genius for command, was no fit match
for Selim, a monarch grown old m the art of war and the course of victory •
whereas a king, who in his early youth had triumphed over the valour and
discipline of the Swiss, till then reckoned invincible, would be an an-
tagonist not unworthy the conqueror of the East ; that the fire and impe-
tuosity of the Erench cavalry, added to the discipline and stability of the
Grerman infantry, would form an army so irresistible, that, instead of waiting
the approach of the Ottoman forces, it mi^ht carry hostilities into the heart
of then: dominions ; that the election ot Charles would be inconsistent
with a fundamental constitution, by which the person who holds the crown
of Naples is excluded from aspiring to the imperial dignity ; that his ele-
vation to that honour would soon kindle a war in Italy, on account of his
pretensions to the duchv of Milan, the effects of which could not fail of
reaching the empire, and might piove fatal to it.^ But wliile the French
ambassadors enlarged upon these and other topics of the same kind, in all

«2 Guicc. lib. xiii. p. 159. Sleidan, Hu^t. of the Reformat. 14. Struvii Corp. Hist.
German, ii. p. 971. Not. 20.

«3 Guicc. lib. xiii. p. 160. Sleid. p. io. Geor. Sabini de Elect. Car. V. Hiatoria
apud Scardii Script. Eier. German, vol. iL \'. 4»

112 YilViYS OF OTHEE rOTEJfXATES. LbOOK I,

the courts of Germany, Francis, ^ sensible of the prejudices entertained
against him as a foreigner, unacquainted with the German language or man-
ners, endeavoured to overcome these, and to gaiuthe favour of the princes, by
immense gifts and by infinite promises. As the expeditious method of trans-
mitting money, and the decent mode of conveying a bribe, by bills of ex-
chauge, were then little kno^ii, the Erench_ ambassadors travelled with a
train of horses loaded with treasure, an equipage not very honourable for
that pruice by whom they were employed, and infamous for those to whom
thev were sent.^*

The other European princes could not remain indifferent spectators of a
contest, the decision of which so nearly affected every one of them. Their
common interest ought naturally to have formed a general combination, in
order to disappoint both competitors, and to prevent either of them from
obtaining such a pre-eminence in power and dignitj^ as might prove dan-
gerous to the liberties of Europe. Eut the ideas with respect to a proper
distribution and balance of power were so lately introduced into the system
of European policj^, that they were not hitherto objects of sufficient at-
tention. The passions of some princes, the want of foresight in others, and
the fear of giving offence to the candidates, hindered such a salutary union
of the powers of Europe, and rendered them either totally negligent of the
public safety, or kept them from exerting themselves with vigour in its
behalf.

The Swiss cantons, though they dreaded the elevation of either of the con-
tending monarchs, and though they wished to have seen some prince whose
dominions were less extensive, and whose power was more moderate, seated
on the imperial throne, were prompted, however, by their hatred of the
Erench nation, to ^ive an open preference to the pretensions of Charles,
while they used their utmost influence to frustrate those of Erancis.^^

The Venetians easily discerned that it was the interest of their republic to
have both the rivals set aside : but their jealousv of the house ot Austria,
whose ambition and neighboui-hood had been fatal to their grandeur, would
not permit them to act up to their own ideas, and led them hastily to give
the sanction of their a;pprobation to the claim of the French king.

It was equally the interest, and_ more in the power, of Henry Ylll. of
England, to prevent either Francis or Charles from acquiring a dignity
which would raise them so far above other monarchs. But though Henry
often boasted that he held the balance of Europe in his hands, he had neither
the steady attention, the accurate discernment, nor the dispassionate temper,
which that dehcate function required. On this occasion, it mortified his
vanity so much to think that he had not entered early iato that noble com-
petition which reflected such honour upon the two antagonists, that he took
a resolution of sending an^ ambassador into Germany, and of declaring him-
seK a candidate for the unpcrial throne. The ambassador, though loaded
with caresses by the German princes and the pope's nuncio, informed his
master that he could hope for no _ success in a claim which he had been so
late m preferruig. Henry, imputing his disappointment to that cu-cmnstance
alone, and soothed with this ostentatious display of his own importance,
seems to have taken no farther part ia the matter, either by contributing
to thwart both his rivals, or to promote one of them.^^

Leo X., a pontiff no less renowned for his pohtical abOities than for his
love of the arts, was the only prince of the age who observed the motions of

^* Meraoires du Mar^ch. de Fleuranges, p. 296.

66 Mdmoires de Fleuranges, p. 314 Herbert, Hist, ot Henry VIII.

« Sabinus, p. 6,

BOOK I.] ASSEMBLY OP THE ELECTORS. . 113

t he two contending raonarclis with a prudent attention, or who discovered a
proper solicitude for the public safety. The imperial and papal jurisdiction
interfered m so many instances, the complaints of usurpation were so numerous
on both sides, and the temtories of the church owed their security so little
to their own force, and so much to the weakness of the powers around
them, that nothing was so formidable to the court of Rome as an emperor
witli extensive doininions, or of enterprism^ genius. Leo trembled at the
prospect of beholding the imperial crown placed on the head of the king of
bpaiu and of Naples, and the master of the new world ; nor was he less afraid
ot seeiu^ a king of Prance, who was duke of Milan and lord of Genoa, exalted
to that dignity. He foretold that the election of either of them would be
fatal to the inde^jendcuce of the holy see, to the peace of Italy, and perhaps
to the liberties ot Europe. But to oppose them with any prospect of success,
reouired address and caution in proportion to the greatness of their power,
and their opportunities of taking revenge. Leo was defective in neither.
He secretly exhorted the German princes to place one of their own number
on the imperial throne, which many of them were capable of filling with
honour. He put them in mind of the constitution by which the km^s of
Naples were for ever excluded from that dignity." He waiinlv exhortea the
French king to persist m Ms claim, not from any desire that he should gain
his end ; but as he foresaw that the Gennans would be more disposed to favour
the king of Spain, he hoped that Erancis himself, when he discovered his
own chance ot" success to be desperate, would be stimulated by resentment
and the spuit of rivalship to concur with all his interest in raising some
third person to the head of the empire : or, on the other hand, if Francis
should make an unexpected progress, he did not doubt but that Charles
would be induced, by similar motives, to act the same part ; and thus, by a
prudent attention, the mutual jealousy of the two rivals might be so dexte-
rously managed as to disappoint both. But this scheme, the only one which
a prince in Leo's situation could adopt, though concerted with great ^visdom,
was executed with little discretion. The French ambassadors in Germany fed
their master with vain hopes ; the pope's nuneiOj beiug gained by them, 'alto-
gether forgot the instructions which he had received; and Francis persevered
so long, and mth such obstinacy, in urging his own pretensions, as rendered
all Leo's measures abortive.^^

Such were the hopes of the candidates, and the views of the different princes,
when the diet was opened according to form at Frankfort. The right of
choosing an emperor had long been vested in seven great princes, distin-
guishcd by the name of electors, the origin of whose office, as well as the
nature and extent of their powers, have already been explained. These
were, at that time, Albert of Brandeuburgh, arehbislio]3 of Mentz ; Herman
count de Wied, archbishop of Cologne ; Eichard de GreiiFenklau, archbishop
of Triers; Lewis, king of Bohemia ;_ Lewis, count palatine of the Rhine;
Frederic, duke of Saxony ; and Joachim I., marquis of Brandeuburgh. Not-
withstanding the artful arguments produced bv the ambassadors of the two
kings in favour of their respective masters, ana in spite of all their solicita-
tions^ intrigues, and presents, the electors did not forget that maxim on wliich
the hberty of the German constitution was thought to be founded. Among
the members of the Germanic body, which is a great republic, composed of
states almost independent, the first principles of patriotism is to depress and
limit the power of the emperor ; and of this idea, so natural under such a
form of government, a German politician seldom loses sight. No prince of

<"■ Goldasti, Constitutiones Imperialcs. Francof. 1763, vol. i. p. 439.
* Guicciar. lib. siiu p. 161.

I

il4 FB-fiDEBIC OP SAXONY DECLINES THE CEOWN. [bGOK I.

considerable power or extensive dominions had for some ages been raised to
the imperial throne. To this prudent precaution msary of the great families
ia Germany owed the splendour and independence which they had acquired
during that period. To elect either of the contending monarchs would have
been a gross violation of that salutary maxim; would have given to the
empire a master instead of a head ; and would have reduced themselves from
the rank of being ahnost his equals to the condition of his subjects.

Pull of these ideas, all the electors turned their eyes towards Erederic,
duke of Saxony, a prince of such eminent virtue and abilities, as to be distin-
guished by the name of the sage, and with one voice they offered him the im-
perial crown. He was not dazzled with that object which monarchs so far
superior to him in power courted with such eagerness ; and after deliberating
upon the matter a short time, he rejected it with a magnanimity and disin-
terestedness no less singular than admirable. " Nothing," he observed,
"could be more irapohtic than an obstinate adherence to a maxim which,
though sound and just ia many cases, was not applicable to all. In times of
tranquiLlity," said he, " we %vish for an emperor who has not power to invade
our liberties ; times of danger demand one who is able to secure our safety.
The Turkish armies, led by a gallant and victorious monarch, are now assem-
bling. They are ready to pour in upon Germany with a violence unknoAvn in
former ages. New conjunctures call for new expedients. The imperial
sceptre must be committed to some hand more powerful than mine, or that
of any other German prince. We possess neither dominions, nor revenues,
nor authority, which enable us to encounter such a formidable enemy. Re-
course must be had, in this exigency, to one of the rival monarchs. Each of
them can brin^ into the field forces sufficient for our defence. But as the
king of Spain is of German extraction ; as he is a member and prince of the
empire by the territories which descend to him from his grandfather ; as his
dominions stretch along that frontier which lies most exposed to the enemy ;
his claim is preferable, in my opinion, to that of a stranger to our language,
to our blood, and to our country ; and therefore I give my vote to confer on
him the iniperial crown."

This opinion, dictated by such uncommon generosity, and supported by
arguments so plausible, made a deep impression on the electors. The king
of Spain's ambassadors, sensible of the important service which Erederic had
done their master, sent him a considerable sum of money, as the first token of
that prince's gratitude. But he who had greatness of mind to refuse a crown,
disdained to receive a bribe ; and, upon their entreating that at least he would
permit them to distribute part of tnat sum among his attendants, he replied
that he could not prevent them from accepting what should be offered, but
whoever took a single florin should be dismissed next morning from his ser-
vice.^^

^^ P. Daniel, an liistorian of considerable name, seems to call in question the truth of
this account of Frederic's behaviour, iu refusing the imperial crown, because it is not
mentioned by Georgius Sabinus in his History of the Election and Coronation of Charles V.
torn. iii. p. 63. But no great stress ought to belaid on an omission in a superficial author,
whose treatise, though dignified with the name of History, contains only sucli an account
of the ceremonial of Charles's election as is usually published in Germany on like occa-
sions. Scard. Rer. Germ. Script, vol. ii. p. 1, The testimony of Erasmus, Mb. xiii. epist. 4,
and that of Sleidan, p. 18, are express. Seckendorf, in his Commentarius Historicus et
Apologeticus de Lutheranismo, p. 121, has examined this fact with his usual industry,
and has established its truth by the most undoubted evidence. To these testimonies
which he has collected, I may add the decisive one of Cardinal Cajetan, the pope's legate
at Frankfort, in his letter, July 5th, 1519. Epistres des Princes, &c., recueillies par
EuscelH, traduictes par Belforest. Par. 1572, p. 60.

200K I.J CHAELES IS CHOSEN EMPEEOE. 115

No prince in Germany could now aspire to a digTiity which Frederic had

declined, for reasons applicable to them all. It re. ' ' ' -ice

between the two great competitors. But besides ■ s's

favour arising from his birth, us well as the situation o. ...., ......,,,.,, v.w.......ons,

lie owed not a little to the abilities of the cai-dinal de Gurk, and the zeal of
Erard de la Mark, bishop of Liege, two of his ambassadors, who had con-
ducted their negotiations with more prudence and address than those en-
tnisted by the Trench king. The former, who had long been the minister
and favourite of Maximilian, was well acquainted with the art of mauaguig
the Germans ; and the latter, having been disappointed of a cardinal's hat
by Francis, employed all the malicious ingenuity with which the desire of
revenge inspires an ambitious mind, in tliwartmg the measures of that
monarch. The Spanish party among the electors daily gained ground ; and
even the pope's nuncio, being convinced that it was vain to make any fuither
opposition, endeavom-ed to acquire some merit with the future emperor, by
offering voluntarily, in the name of his master, a dispensation to hold the im-
perial crown in conjunction with that of Naples.'"

On the twenty-eighth of June, iive months and ten days after the death of
Maximilian, this im]3ortant contest, which had held all Europe in suspense,
was decided. Six ot the electors had already declared for the idng of Spain ;
and the archbishop of Triers, the only finn adherent to the French interest,
having at last joined his brethren, Charles was, by the unanimous voice of the
electoral college, raised to the imperial throne."^

But though the electors consented, from various motives, to promote Charles
to that high station, thev discovered at the same tune great jealousy of his
extraordinary power, and endeavoured, with the utmost solicitude, to pro\ide
against his encroaching on the privileges of the Germanic body. It had long
been the custom to demand of every new emperor a confirmation of these
pri\'Lleges, and to require a promise that he never would violate them in any
instance. "While prmces, who were formidable neither from extent of teni-
tory, nor of genius, possessed the imperial throne, a general and verbal en-
gagement to this purpose was deemed sufficient security. But, under an
emperor so powerful as Charles, other precautions seemed necessaij. A capi-
tulation, or claim of right was formed, m which the privileges and immunities
of the electors, of the princes of the empire, of the cities, and of every other
member of the Germanic body, are enumerated. This capitulation was imme-
diatelv signed by Charles's amoassadors in the name of their master, and he
himself, at his coronation, confirmed it in the most solemn manner. Since
that period, the electors have continued to prescribe the same conditions to
idl his successors • and the capitulation, or mutual contract between the em-
peror and his subjects, is considered in Germany as a strong barrier against
the progress of the imperial power, and as the great charter of their liberties,
to which they often appeal.'^

The important intelligence of liis election was conveyed in nine days from
Frankfort to Barcelona, where Charles was still detained by the obstinacy of
the Catalonian cortes, which had not hitherto brought to an issue any of
the affairs which came before iJu. He received the account with the joy natural
to a young and aspiring mind, on an accession of power and dignity which
raised him so far above the other princes of Europe. Then it was that

« Freheri Rer. Germ, Scriptores, vol. iii. 172, cur. Struvii Argent. 1717. Giannone,
Hist, of Naples, ii. p. 498.

"1 Jac. Aug. Thuan. Hist, sui Temporia, edit. Bulkley, lib. i. ch. 9.

« rieffel, Abreg^ de THist. du Droit Publique d'Allemague, p, 690. Limnei Capi
wttlat. Imper. Epistres des Princes par Ruscelli, p. 60.

i2

116 DISCOXTENI OF THE SPANIAllDS. [BOOK I,

those vast prospects, which allured him during his whole administration,
began to open ; and from this era we may date the formation, and are able to
trace the gradual progress, of a grand system of enterprising ambition, v/iiich
renders the history of his reign so worthy of attention.

A trivial circumstance first discovered the effects of this great elevation
upon the mind of Charles, In all the public writs which he now issued as
king of Spain, he assumed the title of majesty, and required it from his sub-
jects as a mark of their respect. Before that time, all the monarchs of Europe
were satisfied vrith the appellation of highness or grace; but the vanity of
other courts soon led them to imitate the example of the Spanish. The epithet
of majesty is no longer a mark of pre-eminence. The most inconsiderable
monarchs in Eui'ope enjoy it, and the arrogance of the greater potentates
has invented no higher denominations.''^

The Spaniards were far from viewing the promotion of their king to the im-
perial throne with the same satisfaction which he himself felt. To be deprived
of the presence of their sovereign, and to be subjected to the govermnent of
a viceroy and his council, a species of administration often oppressive and
always disagreeable, were the immediate and necessary consequences of this
new dignity. To see the blood of their countrymen shed in quarrels wherein
the nation had no concern ; to behold its treasures wasted in supportmg the
splendour of a foreign title ; to be plunged in the chaos of Italian and German
politics were effects of this event almost as unavoidable. Erom all these con
siderations they concluded, that nothing could have happened more pernicious
to the Spanish nation ; and the fortitude and public spirit of their ancestors,
who, in the cortes of Castile, prohibited Alphonso the Wise from leaving the
kingdom, in order to receive the unperial crown, were often mentioned with
the highest praise, and pronounced to be extremely worthy of imitation at
this juncture.'*

But Charles, without regarding the sentiments or murmurs of his Spanish
subjects, accepted of the imperial dignity which the count palatine, at the
head of a solemn embassy, offered him in the name of the electors ; and de-
clared his intention of setting out soon for Germany, in order to take pos
session of it. This was the more necessary, because, according to the forms
of the German constitution, he could not, before the ceremony of a public
coronation, exercise any act of jurisdiction or authority."

Their certain knowledge of this resolution augmented so much the disgust
of the Spaniards, that a sullen and refractory spirit prevailed among persons
of all rariks. The pope having granted the king the tenths of aR ecclesiastical
benefices in Castile, to assist hhn in carrying on war with greater vigour
against the Turks, a convocation of the clergy unanmiously refused to levy
that sum, upon pretence that it ought never to be exacted but at those times
when Christendom was actually invaded by the infidels; and though Leo, in
order to support his authority, laid the kingdom under an interdict, so little
regard was paid to a censure which was universally deemed unjust, that
Charles lumself applied to have it taken off. Thus the Spanish clergy, be-
sides their merit in opposmg the usurpations of the pope, and disregarding
the influence of the crown, gained the exemption which Uiey had claimed.''^

The commotions which arose in the kingdom of Valencia, amiexed to the
crown of Aragoii, were more formidable, and produced more dangerous and
lasting effects. A seditious monk, haying by his sermons excited the citizens

" Miniana3 Contin. JIar. p. 13. Ferreras, viii. 475. Memoires, Hist, de la Houssaie,

torn. i. p. 53, &c. 74 Sandoval, i. p. 32 ; Minianse Contin. p. 14.

" Sabinus, P Barre, viii. 1085. ^e p^ Martyr, Ep. 462. Ferreras, viii. p. 473.

UOOK I.l COETES OF CASTILE SUMMONED. 117

of Valencia, the capital city, to take arms, aud to punish certain criminals in
a tumultuary manner, the people, pleased with this exercise of power, and
with such a discovery of theii- own unportance, not only refused to lay down
their anus, but formed themselves into troops and companies, that they might
be regularly trained to martial exercises. To obtain some security against
the oppression of the gi-andces was the motive of this association, and proved
a powerful bond of union ;> for as the aristocratical privileges ana inde-
jjendencc were more complete in Valencia tlian in any otlier of the Spanish
kingdoms, the nobles, being scarcely accountable for their conduct to any
superior, treated the people not only as vassals but as slaves. They were
alarmed, however, at the progress of this unexpected iusun-ection, as it
might encourage the people to attempt shaJting oif the yoke altogether ; but
as they could not repress them without taking arms, it became necessary to
liave recourse to the emperor, and to desire his permission to attack them.
[1520]. At the same time the people made choice of deputies to represent
their grievances, and to implore the protection of their sovereign. Happily
for the latter, they arrived at court when Charles was exasperated to a iugh
degree against the nobility. As he was eager to visit Germany, where Ms
presence became every day more necessary, and his Flemish courtiers were
still more impatient to return into their native country, that they might carry
thither the spoils which they had amassed in Castile, it was impossible for
him to hold the cortes of Valencia in person. He had for that reason em-
powered the cardiaal Adrian to represent him ia that assembly, and in his
name to receive their oath of allegiance, to confirm their privileges with the
usual solemnities, and to demand of them a free gift. JBut the Valencian
nobles, who considered this measure as an indignity to their couutrj^ which
was no less entitled than his other kingdoms to the honour of their sovereign's
presence, declared that, by the fundamental laws of the constitution, they could
neither acknowledge as king a person who was absent, nor grant him any
subsidy ; and to this declaration they adhered with a haughty and inflexible
obstinacy. Charles, piqued by their behaviour, decided in favour of the
people, and rashly authorized them to continue in arms. Their deputies re-
turned in triumph, and were received by their feUow-citizens as the deliverers
of their country. The insolence of the multitude increasing with their suc-
cess, they expelled all the nobles out of the city, committed the government
to magistrates of their own election, and entered into an association, distin-
guished by the name of germanada or brotherhood, which proved the source
not only of the wildest disorders, but of the most fatal calamities in that
kingdom."

Meanwhile, the kingdom of Castile was agitated with no less violence. No
sooner was the emperor's intention to leave Spain made known, than several
cities of the tirst rank: resolved to remonstrate against it, and to crave redress
once more of those grievances which they had formerly laid before him.
Charles artf idly avoided admitting their deputies to audience ; and as he saw
from this circumstance how difficult it would be, at this juncture, to restrain
the mutinous spirit of the greater cities, he summoned the cortes of Castile
to meet at Compostella, a town in GaUcia. His only reason for calling that
assembly, was the hope of obtaining another donative ; for, as his treasury
had been exhausted in the same proportion that the riches of his ministers
increased, he could not, without some additional aid, appear in Germany with
splendour suited to the imperial dignity. To appoint a meeting of the cortes
in so remote a province, and to demand a new subsidy before the time for

" P. Martyr, Ep. 651. Ferreras, viu. pp. 476 485.

lis CHAELES LEAVES SPAIX. [BOOK I.

paying tlic former was expired, were innovations of a most dangerous ten-
dency; and among a people not only jealous of their liberties, but accustomed
to supply the wants of their sovereigns with a very frugal hand, excited a
universal alarm. The magistrates of Toledo remonstrated against both these
measures in a very high tone : the inhabitants of Valladolid, who expected
that the cortes should have been held in that city, were so enraged, that they
took arms in a tumultuary manner ; and if Charles, with his foreign coun-
ciUors, had not fortunately made their escape during a violent tempest, they
would have massacred all the Flemings, and have prevented him from conti-
nuing his journey towards Compostella.

Every city through which he passed petitioned against holding a cortes in
Galicia, a poiut with regard to which Charles was inflexible. Eut though
the utmost influence had been exerted by the ministers, in order to procure
- choice of representatives favourable to their designs, such was the temper
of the nation, that, at the opening of the assembly, there appeared among
many of the members unusuaf symptoms of ill-humour, which threatened a
fierce opposition to all the measures of the court. No representatives were
sent by Toledo; for the lot, according to which, by ancient custom, the
election was determined in that city, having fallen upon two persons devoted
to the Elemish ministers, their fellow-citizens refused to grant them a com-
mission in the usual form, and in their stead made choice of two deputies,
whom they empowered to repair to Compostella, and to protest against the
awfulness of the cortes assembled there. The representatives of Salamanca
refused to take the usual oath of fidehty, unless Charles consented to change
the place of meetmg. Those of Toro, Madrid, Cordo\'a, and several other
places, declared the demand of another donative to be unprecedented, uncon-
stitutional, and uimecessary. All the arts, however, which influence popular
assemblies, bribes, promises, threats, and even force, were employed, in order
to gain members. The nobles, soothed by the respectful assiduity with which
Chievres and the other Memings paid court to them, or instigated by a mean
jealousy of that spirit of independence which they saw rising among the
commons, openly favoured the pretensions of the court, or at the utmost did
not oppose them; and at last, in contempt not only of the senthneuts of the
nation, but of the ancient forms of tlie constitution, a majority voted to grant
the donative for wliich the emperor had applied.'^ Together with this grant,
the cortes laid before Charles a representation of those giievances whereof
his people complamed, and in their name craved redress ; but he, having ob-
tamed from them all he could expect, paid no attention to this ill-tuned
petition, which it was no longer dangerous to disregard.^^

As nothing now retarded his embarkation, he disclosed his intention with
regard to the regency of Castile during his absence, which he had hitherto
kept secret and nominated Cardinal Adrian to that office. The vicerovalty
ot Arao-on he conferred on Don John de Lanuza; that of Valencia on Don
Diego de Mendoza, conde de Melito. The choice of the two latter was uni-
versally acceptable ; but the advancement of Adrian, though the only Fleming
who had preserved any reputation among the Spaniards, anunated the Cas-
phans with new hatred agamst foreigners; and even the nobles, who had so
tamely suitered other inroads upon the constitution, felt the indignity ofl'ered
to their own order by his promotion, and remonstrated against it as illegal.
i3ut Chaiies s desire oi visitmg Germany, as well as the impatience of his mi-
nisters to leave bj)ain, were now so much mcreased, that, without attending
to the murmurs ot the CastiUans, or even taking time to provide any remedy

" P. Martyr, Ep. 663. Sandovai pp. 32 &c, r9 Sandoral, p. 84.

BOOK n.l CHARLES AND FRANCIS AS RIVALS. 119

aflrainst an insurrection in Toledo, which at that time threatened, and after-

w, ' ' ' ••'^■' formidable effects, he sai!'"i '■• '' :na on the

1 .; and, by setting out so . of a new

cr... .....

sessiui

a more important one of wi dy in pos-

80 P. Martyr, Ep. C70. Sandoval, p. 86.

BOOK n.

Kivaliy between Charles and Francis I. for the Empire — They negotiate with the Pope,
the Venetians, and Henry VIII. of England — Character of the latter — Cardinal Wolsey
— Charles visits England — Meeting between Henry VIII. and Francis I. — Coronation
of Charles — Solyman the Magnificent — The Diet convoked at Worms — The Reformation
— Sale of Indulgences by Leo X. — Tetzel — Luther — Progress of his Opinions — Is sum-
; luoned to Rome — His appearance before the Legate — He appeals to a General Council
' — Luther questions the Papal Authority — Reformation in Switzerland — Excommuni-
cation of Luther — Reformation in Germany — Causes of the Progress of the Reforma-
tion— The Corruption in the Roman Church — Power and Ill-Couduct of the Clergy —
Venality of the Roman Court — Effects of the Invention of Printing — Erasmus — The
Diet at Worms — Edict against Luther — He is seized and confined at Wartburg — His
Doctrines condemned by the University of Paris, and controverted by Henry VIII. of
England — Henry VIII. favours the Emperor Charles against Francis I. — Leo X. makes
a Treaty with Charles — Death of Chifevres — HostiUties iii Navarre and in the Low
Countries — Siege of Mdzi^res — Congress at Calais -League against France — Hos-
tilities in Italy — Death of Leo X. — Defeat of the French — Henry VIII. declares War
against France — Charles visits England — Conquest of Rhodes by Solyman.

[1520,1 ^Iaxy concurring ciixiumstances not only caEed Charles's thoughts
towards the affairs of Grermany, but rendered his presence in that country ne-
cessary. The electors grew unpatient of so long an interregnum • his here-
ditary dominions were disturbed by intestine commotions ; and the new
opinions concerning religion made such rapid progress as required the most
serious consideration. But. above all, the motions of the French king drew
his attention, and convinced him that it was necessary to take measui-es for
his own defence with no less speed than vigour.

When Charles and Erancis entered the lists as candidates for the imperial
dignity, they conducted their rivalship with many professions of regard for
each other, and with repeated declarations that they would not suffer any
tincture of enmity to mingle itself with this honourable emulation. " We
both com-t the same mistress," said Erancis, with his usual vivacity ; " each
ought to urge Ms suit with all the addi'css of which he is master • the most
fortunate will prevail, and the other must rest contented."' But though
two young and high-spirited princes, and each of them animated with the
hope of success, might be capable of forming such a generous resolution, it
was soon found that they presumed upon a moderation too relined and disin-
terested for himian nature. The preference given to Charles in the sight of
all Europe inortified Erancis extremeh^, and inspired him with all the passions
natui'd to disappointed ambition. To this was owing the personal jealousy
and rivalship which subsisted between the two monarchs during their whole

i Guic. lib. xiii. p. 159.

120 CHAHLES AND FEANCIS AS IIIVALS. [BOOK II.

reign ; and the rancour of these, augmented by a real opposition of interest,
wmch' gave rise to many unavoidable causes of discord, involved them in
almost perpetual hostilities. Charles had paid no regard to th^ principal
article in the treaty of Noyon, by refusing- oftener than once to do justice to
John d'Albret, the excluded monarch of Navarre, wliom Prancis was bound
in honour, and prompted by interest, to restore to his throne. _ The Prenck
king had pretensions to the crown of Naples, of which Ferdinand had de-
prived his predecessor by a most unjustifiable breach of faith. The emperor
might reclaim the duchy of Milan as a fief of the empire, which Francis had
seized, and still kept in possession, without liaving received investiture of it
from the emperor. Charles considered the duchy of Burgundy as the patri-
monial domain of his ancestors, wrested from them by the unjust policy^ of
Louis XI., and observed with the greatest jealousy the strict connexions which
Francis had formed with the duke of Gueldres, the hereditary enemy of his
family.

When the sources of discord were so many and various, peace could be
of no long continuance, even between princes the most exempt from ambition
or emulation. But as the shock between two such mighty antagonists could
not fail of being extremely violent, they both discovered no small solicitude
about its consequences, and took time not only to collect and to ponder their
own strength, and to compare it with that of their adversary, but to secure
the friendship or assistance of the other European powers.

The pope had equal reason to dread the two rivals, and saw that he who
prevailed would become absolute master in Italy. If it had been in his power
to engage them in hostilities, without rendering Lombardy the theatre of
war, nothing would have been more agreeable to him than to see them waste
each other's strength in endless quarrels. But this was impossible. Leo
foresaw that, on the first rupture between the two monarchs, the armies of
France and Spain would take the field in the Milanese ; and while the scene
of their operations was so near, and the subject for which they contended
so interesting to him, he could not long remain neuter. He was obliged,
therefore, to adapt his plan of conduct to his political situation. He courted
and soothed the emperor and king of France with equal industry and address.
Though warmly solicited by each of them to espouse his cause, he assumed
aU. the appearances of entire impartiality, and attempted to conceal his real
sentiments under that profound dissimulation which seems to have been
affected by most of the Italian politicians in that age.

The views and interest of the Yenetians were not different from those of
the pope ; nor were they less solicitous to prevent Italy from becoming the
seat of war, and their own republic from being involved in the quarrel. But
through aU Leo's artifices, and notwithstanding his liigh pretensions to a
perfect neutrality, it was visible that he leaned towards the emperor, from
whom he had both more to fear and more to hope than from Francis ; and it
was equally manifest that, if it became necessary to take a side, the Venetians
would, from motives of the same nat^e, declare for the king of France. No
considerable assistance, however, was to be expected from the Italian states,
who were jealous to an extreme degree of the transalpine powers, and careful
to preserve the balance even between them, unless when they were seduced
to violate tliis favourite maxim of their policy, by the certain prospect of some
great advantage to themselves.

But the chief attention both of Charles and of Francis was employed in
order to gain the king of England, from whom each of them expected assist-
ance more effectual, and afforded with less political caution. Henry YIII.
had ascended the throne of that kingdom in the year one thousand five
hundred and nine, with such cncumstances of advantage as promised a reign

Bt)OK II.l HENRY THE EIGHTH. 121

of distinguished felicity and splendour. The union in liis person of the t\ro
cnntcndiue: titles of York and Lancaster, the alacrity and emulation with
which both factions obeyed his commands, not only enabled him to exert a
degree of vigour and authority in his domestic government, which none of
his predecessors could have safely assumed; but permitted l.im to take a
share in the tilFairs of the continent, from which the attention of the English
had long been diverted by their unhappy intestine divisions. The CTcat sums
of money which his father had amassed rendered him the most wealthy prince
in Europe. The peace which had subsisted under the cautious administration
of that monarch, had been of siifficient length to recruit the population of
the kingdom after the desolation of the civil wars, but not so long as to
enervate its spirit ; and the English, ashamed of having rendered their own
country so long a scene of discord and bloodshed, were ea^er to display their
valour in some foreign war, and to revive the memory of the victories gained
on the continent by their ancestors. Henry's own temper perfectly suited
the state of his kingdom, and the disp9sition of his subjects. Ambitious,
active, enterprising, and accomplished in aU the martial exercises which in
that age formed a cliief part of the education of persons of noble birth, and
inspii-ed them with an early love of war, he longed to engage in action, and to
signalize the beginning of his reign by some remarkable exploit. An oppor-
tunity soon presented itself; and the victory at Guinegate, together with the
successful sieges of Terouenne and Toumay, though of little utility to
England, reflected great lustre on its monarch, and confirmed the idea which
foreign princes entertained of his power and consequence. So many con-
cui-riug causes, added to the happy situation of his own dominions, which
secured them from foreign invasion ; and to the fortunate circumstance of his
being in possession of Calais, wliich served not only as a key to Erance, but
opened an easy passage into the Netherlands, rendered the king of England
the natural guardian of the liberties of Europe, and the arbiter between the
emperor and French monarch. Hemy himself was sensible of this singular
advantage, and convinced that, in orcler to preserve the balance even, if was
his office to prevent either of the rivals from acquiring such superiority of
power as might be fatal to the other, or formidable to the rest of Christendom,
^ut he was destitute of the jDcnetration, and still more of the temper, which
such a delicate function required. Influenced by caprice, by vamty, by re-
sentment, by aflection, he was incapable of forming any regular and extensive
system of policy, or of adhering to it with steadiness. His measures seldom
resulted from attention to the general welfare, or from a deliberate regard to
his o^vn interest, but were dictated by passions which rendered him blind to
both, and prevented his gaining that ascendant in the affairs of Europe, or
from reaping such advantages to himself, as a prince of greater art, though
with inferior talents, might have easily secured.

All the impolitic steps ia Henry's administration must not, however, be
imputed to defects in his own character ; many of them were owing to the
violent passions and insatiable ambition of his prime minister and favourite,
cardinal Wolsey. This man, from one of the lowest ranks in life, had risen
to a height of power and dignity, to wliich no English subject ever arrived ;
and governed the haughty, presumptuous, and mtractable spirit of Henry
with absolute authority. Great talents, and of very diflerent kmds, fitted him
for the two opposite stations of minister and favourite. His profound judg-
ment, his unwearied industry, liis thorough acquaintance with the state of the
kingdom, his extensive knowledge of the views and interest of foreign courts,
qualified liim for that imcontroUed direction of afi"airs with which he was en-
trusted. The elegance of his manners, the gaiety of his conversation, his
insinuating address, his love of magnificence, and his proficiency in those parts

122 iNrLUENCE or wolsey. [book n.

of literature of whicli Henry was fond, gained him the affection and confidence
of the young monarch. TV olsey was faT from employing this vast and almost
royal power, to promote either the true interest of the nation, or the real
grandeur of his master. Rapacious at the same time, and profuse, he was
msatiable in desiring wealth. Of boundless ambition, he aspired after new
honours with an eagerness unabated by his former success ; and being ren-
dered presumptuous by Ms uncommon elevation, as well as by the ascendant
which he had gained over a prhice who scarcely brooked advice from any
other person, he discovered in his whole demeanour the most overbearing
haughtiness and pride. To these passions he himself sacrificed every con-
sideration; and whoever endeavoured to obtain his favour, or that of his
master, found it necessary to soothe and to gratify them.

As aU the states of Europe sought Henry's friendship at that time, all
courted his minister with incredible attention and obsequiousness, and strove
by presents, by promises, or by flattery, to work upon his avarice, his am-
bition, or his pride.'^ Erancis had, in the year one thousand five hundred and
eighteen, employed Bomiivet, admiral of France, one of his most accomplished
and artful courtiers, to gain this haughty prelate. He himself bestowed on
him everj^ mark of respect and confidence. He consulted him with regard to
his most important affairs, and received his responses with implicit deference.
By these arts, together with the grant of a large pension, Erancis attached
the cardinal to his interest, who persuaded his master to surrender Toumay
to Erance, to conclude a treaty of marriage between his daughter, the princess
Mary, and the daupliin, and to consent to a personal interview with the French
kiug.^ Erom that time, the most familiar intercourse subsisted between the
two courts ; Erancis, sensible of the great value of Wolsey's friendsliip, la-
boured to secure the continuance of it by every possible expression of regard,
bestowing on him, in. all his letters, the honoui-able appellations of father,
tutor, and governor.

Charles observed the i)rogress of this union with the utmost jealousy and
C9nceiii. His near afimity to the king of England gave him some title to
his friendsliip ; and, soon after his accession to the throne of Castile, he had
attempted to ingratiate himself with Wolsey, by settling on hun a pension
of three thousand livres. His chief solicitude at present was to prevent the
intended interview with Erancis, the effects of which upon two young princes,
whose hearts were no less susceptible of friendship than their manners were
capable of inspiring it, he extremely dreaded. But, after many delays, occa-
sioned by difficulties with respect to the ceremonial, and by the anxious pre-
cautions of both courts for the safety of their respective sovereigns, the time
and place of meeting were at last fixed. Messengers had been sent to different
courts, inviting all comers, who were gentlemen, to enter the lists at tilt and
tournament, against the two monarchs and their knights. Both Erancis and
Henry loved the splendour of these spectacles too well, and were too much
delighted with the graceful figure which they made on such occasions, to
forego the pleasure or glory which they expected from such a singular and
brilliant assembly. Nor was the cardinal less fond of displaying his own
magnificence m the presence of two courts, and of discovering to the two
nations the extent of his uiffuence over both theii* monarchs. Charles, finding
it unpossible to prevent the interview, endeavoured to disappoint its effects,
and to pre-occupy the favour of the Enghsh monarch and his minister, by
an_ act of complaisance stiU more flattering and more uncommon. Having
sailed from Corunna, as has already been related, he steered his course di'

2 Fiddes' Life of Wolsey, p. 166. Eymer's Fcedera, xii. p. 718.
' Herbert's Hist, of Henry VUI. p. 30. Kymer, sbl p. 624.

BOOK II.] INTERVIEW BETWEEN HENET AXD PBANCIS. 128

rectly towards England, and, rdvinj? wholly mi Hmry*R prpnerosify for his

(. " '■ ' . landedf at Dover. Tl ' ' / ' ' ' ' ' it ion.

.wevcr, was well acqi i A

L._..., ., unknown to the bisto ... , , i be-

tween liim and the court of Spain ; this visit had been cc> irles

granted the cardinal, whom he calls his mofst dear friend, ; n.sion

of seven thousand ducats.'* Hcnrv, who was then at Canterbury, iu his way
to France, immediately despatched Wolsey to Dover, in order toVelcome the
emperor ; and being highly pleased -with an event so soothing to his vanity,
hastened to receive, with suitable respect, a guest who haa placed iu him
such unbounded confidence. Charles, to whom tune was precious, stayed
only four days in England ; but, during that short space, he had the address
not only to give Henry favourable impressions of his character and intentions,
but to detacn Wolsey entirely from tne interest of the French king. All the
grandem-j the wealth, and the power, which the cardinal possessed, did not
satisfy his ambitious mind, while there was one step higher to which an
ecclesiastic could ascend. The papal dignity had for some time been the
object of liis wishes ; and Francis, as the most effectual method of securing
liis friendship, had promised to favour liis pretensions, on the first vacancy,
with all his mterest. But as the emperor's influence in the college of car-
dinals was greatly superior to that of the French king, Wolsey grasped
eagerly at the_ offer which that artful prince had made him, of exerting it
vigorously in his behalf; and, allured bv this prospect, which, under the ponti-
ficate of Leo, stiU in the prime of his life, was a very distant one, he entered
with warmth into all the emperor's schemes. No treaty, however, was con-
cluded at that time between the two monarchs ; but Henry, in return for
the honour which Charles had done him, promised to visit him in some place
of the Low Countries, immediately after taking leave of the French king.

His interview with that prince was in an open plain between Guisnes and
Ardres, where the two kings and their attendants displayed their magniiicence
with such emulation and profuse expense, as procured it the name of the
Field of the Cloth of Gold. Feats of chivalrj'-, parties of gallantry, together
with such exercises and pastirnes as were in that age reckoned manly or
elegant, i-ather than serious business, occupied both courts during eighteen
days that they continued together.^ Whatever impression the engaging
manners of Francis, or the liberal and unsuspicious confidence with which he
treated Henr^, made on the mind of that monarch, was soon eflaced by
AVolsey's artifices, or by an interview he had with the emperor at Gravelines,
which was conducted with less pomp than that near Guisnes, but with
greater attention t9 what might be of political utility.

This assiduity with which the two greatest monarchs in Europe paid court

* Rymer. xiii. p. 714.

* The French and English historians describe the pomp of this interview, and the
various spectacles, with great minuteness. One circumstance, mentioned by the Mare-
chal de Fleuranges, who was present, and which must appear singular in the preseat age,
is commonly omitted. " After the tournament," says he, " the French and English
wrestlers made their appearance, and wrestled in presence of the kings and the ladies;
and as there were many stout ^vrestlcrs there, it aflforded excellent pastime ; but as the
king of France had neglected to bring any wrestlers out of Bretagne, the English gained
the prize. After this, the kings of France and England retired to a tent, where they
drank together, and the king of England, seizing the king of France by the collar, said,

My brother, I must icrestle with you,^ and endeavoured once or twice to trip up his heels ;
but the king of France, who is a dexterous wrestler, twisted him round, and threw him
oa the earth with prodigious violence. The king of England wanted to renew the combat,
but was prevented." Mimoires de FleuranQCS, 128. Paris, 1753, p. 329.

124 COEONATION OF CHAJILES. [BOOK II.

to Hem-y, appeared to him a plain acknowledgment that he held the balance
in his hands, and convinced him of the justness of the motto which he had
chosen, " That whoever he favoured would prevail." In tliis opinion he was
confirnied by an offer which Charles made, of submitting any difference that
might arise between him and Erancis to his sole arbitration. Nothing could
have the appearance of greater candour and moderation than the choice of a
judge who was reckoned the common friend of both. But as the emperor
had now attached Wolsey entirely to his interest, no proposal could be more
insidious, nor, as appeared by the sequel, more fatal to the French kin^.«

Charles, notwithstanding his partial fondness for the Netherlands, the
place of his nativity, made no Jong stay there, and, after receiving the
homage and congi-atulations of liis countrymen, hastened to Aix-la-Chapelle,
the place appointed by the golden buU for the coronation of the emperor.
There, in presence of an assembly more numerous and splendid than had ap-
peared on any former occasion, the crown of Charlemagne was placed on lus
head, \Adth all the pompous solemnity which the Germans affect in their
public ceremonies, and which they deem essential to the dignity of their
empire/

Almost at the same time, Solyman the Magnificent, one of the most ac-
complished, enterprising, and victorious of the Turkish sultans, a constant
and formidable rival to the emperor, ascended the Ottoman throne. It was
the peculiar glory of that period to produce the most illustrious monarchs
who have at any one time appeared in Europe. Leo, Charles, Erancis, Henry,
and Solyman, were each of them possessed of talents which might have ren-
dered anj[ age wherein they happened to flourish conspicuous. But such a
constellation of great princes shed uncommon lustre mi the sixteenth century.
In every contest, great power, as well as great abilities, were set in oppo-
sition ; the efforts of valour and conduct on one side, counterbalanced by an
equal exertion of the same qualities on the other, not only occasioned such a
variety of events as renders the history of that period interesting, but served
to check tiie exorbitant progress of any of those princes, and to prevent
their attaining such pre-eminence in power as would have been fatal to the
liberty and happiness of mankind.

The first act of the emperor's administration was to appoint a diet of the
empire to be held at Worms, on ths sixth of January, one thousand five
hundred and twenty-one. In his circular letters to the different princes, he
informed them that he had called this assembly in order to concert with them
the most proper measures for checking the progress of those new and dan-
gerous opmions, which threatened to disturb the peace of Germany, and to
overturn the religion of their ancestors.

Charles had in view the opinions which had been propagated by Luther
and liis disciples since the year one thousand five hundi-ed and seventeen.
As these led to that happy reformation in religion which rescued one part of
Europe from the papal yoke, mitigated its rigour ui the other, and produced
a revolution in the sentiments of mankind, the greatest, as well as the most
beneficial, that has happened since the publication of Christianity, not onlv
the events which at first gave birth to such opinions, but the causes which
rendered their progress so rapid and successful, deserve to be considered
with miuute attention.

To overturn a system of religious belief, founded on ancient and deep-
rooted prejudices, supported by power, and defended with no less art than

' Herbert, p. 37.

' Hartman. Mauri Relatio Coronat. Car. V. ap. Goldast. Polit. Imperial. Franc. 1614»
fol. p. 264.

BOOK II.] RISE AUD PEOGRESS OP TUE REFORMATION. 125

iudustiT; to establish in its room doctrines of the most contrary genius and
tendency; and to accomplish all tliis, not by external violence or the force of
arms, arc operations whicli historians, the least prone to credulity and super-
stition, ascribe to that Divine Providence which, with infinite ease, can
bring about events which to human sagacity appear impossible. The interpo-
sition of Heaven in favour of the Christian rehgion at its first pubheation,
was maiiifested by miracles and prophecies wrought and uttered m confirma-
tion of it. Though none of the reformers possessed, or pretended to possess,
these supernatural gifts, yet that wonderful prcpai-ation of circun).^tancc3
which disposed the minds of men for rcceivmg their doctrines, that singidar
combination of causes which secured their success, and enabled men destitute
of power and of policy to triumph over those who employed against them
extraordinary efforts ot both, majr be considered as no slight proof, that the
same hand which planted the Chi-istian rehgion, protected the reformed faith,
and reared it from beginnings extremely feeble, to an amazing degree of
vigour and maturity.

It was from causes seemingly fortuitous, and from a source vcit incon-
siderable, that all the mighty effects of the reformation flowed. Leo ^., when
raised to the papal throne, tound the revenues of the church exhausted by the
vast projects of his two ambitious predecessors, Alexander VI. and Julius II.
His own temper, naturally liberal and enterprising, rendered him incapable of
that severe and patient economy which the situation of his finances reciuired.
On the contrary, his schemes for aggrandizing the family of Medici, his love
of splendour, his taste for pleasure, and his magnificence in rewarding men
of genius, involved him daily in new expenses ; in order to provide a fund
for which he tried every device that the tertile invention of priests had fallen
upon, to drain the credulous multitude of their wealth. Among others, he
had recourse to a sale of indulgences. According to the doctrine of the llomish
church, all the good works of the samts, over and above those which were
necessary towards their own justification, are deposited, together with the
infinite merits of Jesus Christ, in one inexhaustible treasury. The keys of
this were committed to St. Peter, and to his successors the popes, who may
open it at pleasure, and, by transferring a portion of this superabundant
merit to any particular person for a sum of monty, may convey to him either
the pardon of his own sms, or a release for any one in whose happiness he is
interested, from the pains of pm-gatory. Such indulgences were first invented
in the eleventh century by Urban II., as a recompence for those who went in
person upon iho, meritorious entei*prise of conquering the Holy Land. They
were aftenvards granted to those who hired a soldier for that pm-pose ; and
in process of time were bestowed on such as gave money for accomplishing
any pious work enjoined by the pope.* Julius II. had bestowed indulgences
on all who contributed towards building the church of St. Peter at Kome;
and as Leo was carrying on that magnificent and expensive fabric, his grant
was founded on the same pretence.'*

The right of promulgating these induljjences in Germany, together with
a share in the profits arising from the sale of them, was granted to Albert,
Elector of Metz and Archbishop of Magdeburg, who, as his chief agent for
retailing them in Saxony, employed Tetzel, a Domiuicau friar, of licentious
morals, but of an active spirit, and remarkable for his noisy and popular
eloquence. He, assisted by the monks of his order, executed the com mission
with great zeal and success, but with little discretion or decency ; and though,
by magnifying excessively the benefit of their indulgences,"" and by disposing

• History of the Council of Trent, by F. Paul, p. 4.

" Paiavic. Hist. Coiic. Trident, p. 4.

*« As the form of these indulgeaces, and the leuefits v.'aich they jrore snpr oscJ to

126 B.ISE A2JD PROGEESS OP THE EEEOJIMATIOX. [BOOK R.

of them at a very low price, they carried on for some time an extensive and
lucrative traffic among the credulous and the ignorant, the extravagance of •
their assertions, as well as the irregularities in their conduct, came at last to
give general olfence. The princes and nobles were irritated at seeing their
vass^s drained of so much wealth, in order to replenish the treasury of a
pr9fiise pontiff. Men of piety ^regretted the delusion of the people, who,
being taught to rely for tne pardon of their sins on the indulgences which
they purchased, did not think it incumbent on them either to study the
doctrines taught by genuine Christianity, or to practice the duties wmch it
enjoins. Even the most unthinking were shocked at the scandalous behaviour
of Tetzel and his associates, who often squandered in drunkenness, gaming,
and low debauchery, those sums which were piously bestowed in hopes of
obtaining eternal happiness ; and all began to wish that some check were
given to this commerce, no less detrimental to society than destructive to
religion.

Such was the favourable juncture, and so disposed were the miiids of his
comitrymen to listen to his discourses, when Martin Luther first began to
call in question the efficacy of indulgences, and to declaim agaiast the vicious
lives and false doctrines of the persons employed in promulgating them.
Luther was a native of Eisleben, in Saxonv, and, though born of poor parents,
had received a learned education, dm-ing the progress of which he gave many
indications of uncommon vigour and acuteness of genius. His mind was

convey, are unknown in protestant countries, and little understood, at present, in several
places where the Roman catholic religion is established, I have, for the information of my
readers, translated the form of absolution used by Tetzel: "May our Lord Jesus Christ
have mercy upon ihee, and absolve thee by the merits of his most holy passion. And I,
by his authority, that of his blessed Apostles Peter and Paul, and of the most holy pope,
granted and committed to me in these parts, do absolve thee, first from all ecclesiastical
censures, in whatever manner they have been incurred, and then from all thy sins, trans-
gressions, and excesses, how enormous soever they may be, even from such as are reserved
for the cognisance of the holy see ; and as far as the keys of the holy church extend, I
remit to you all punishment which you deserve in purgatory on their account ; and I re-
store you to the holy sacraments of the church, to the unity of the faithful, and to that
innocence and purity which you possessed at baptism ; so that, when you die, the gates
of punishment shall be shut, and the gates of the paradise of delight shall be opened ;
and if you shall not die at present, this grace shall remain in full force when you are at
the point of death. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost." —
Seckend. Comment, lib. i. p. 14.

The terms in which Tetzel and his associates described the benefits of indulgences, and
the necessity of pm-chasing them, are so extravagant, that they appear to be almost in-
credible. If any man (said they) purchase letters of indulgence, his soul may rest secure
with respect to its salvation. The souls confined in purgatory, for whose redemption in-
dulgences are purchased, as soon as the money tinkles in the chest, instantly escape from
that place of torment, and ascend into heaven. That the efficacy of indulgences was so
great, that the most heinous sins, even if one should violate (which was impossible) the
mother of God, would be remitted and expiated by them, and the person be freed both
from_ punishment and guilt. That this was the unspeakable gift of God, in order to re-
concile men to himself. That the cross erected by the preachers of indulgences was as
efficacious as the cross of Christ itself. Lo ! the heavens ai-e open ; if you enter not now,
when will you enter.? For twelve pence you may redeem the soul of your father out of
purgatory ; and are you so ungrateful, that you will not rescue your parent from torment ?
If you had but one coat, you ought to strip yourself instantly and sell it, in order to pur-
chase such benefits, &c. These, and many such extravagant expressions, are selected out
of Luther's works by Chemnitius in his Examen ConciUi Tridentini, apud Herm. Von der
Hardt, Hist. Liter. Eeform. pars iv. p. 6. The same author has published several of
Tetzel's discourses, which prove that wese expressions were neither singular nor exagge-
rated.—/Jtd p. 14.

BOOK U.] LUTHEE. 187

naturally siiscnptihle of serious sentiments, and tinpfiirefl with somewhat of

r ' '■ ■ ' "holv which delights in the " ' ' ' ' i of a

icatii of a co]ii])anion killed ' • in a

\...... :.,-.a, made such au impression g.. >..., .,,... , ••.fnr{

with his natural temper in inducing him to retire into a convci i i

friars, where, without suffering the entreaties of his parents to ' i

what he thought his duty to God, he assumed the habit of that order. lie
soon acquired great reputation, not only for piety, but for his love of know-
ledge, and his unwearied application to study. He had been taught the scho-
lastic philosophy and theology, which were then in vogue, ny very able
masters, and wanted not penetration to comprehend all the niceties and dis-
tinctions with which they abound ; but his understanding, naturally sound,
and superior to everything frivolous, soon became disgusted with those sub-
tile and uninstructive sciences, and sought for some more solid foundation of
knowledge and of piety in the holy Scriptures. Having found a copy of the
Bible, which lay neglected in the library of his monastery, he abandoned all
other pursuits, and devoted himself to the study of it, with such eagerness
and assiduity, as astonished the monks, who were little accustomed to derive
their theological notions from that source. The great progress which he
made in this uncommon course of study, augmented so much the fame both
of his sanctity and of his learning, that Frederic, elector of Saxony, having
founded a university at Wittember^ on the Elbe, the place of his residence,
Luther was chosen first to teach pmlosophy, and afterwards theology there ;
and dischai'ged both offices in such a manner, that he was deemed tne chief
ornament of that society.

"While Luther was at the height of his reputation and authority, Tetzel
began to publish indulgences in the neighbourhood of Wittemberg, and to
ascribe to them the same imaginary' virtues which had, in other places, im-
posed on the credulity of the people. As Saxony was not more enlightened
than the other provinces of Germany, Tetzel met with prodigious success
there. It was with the utmost concern that Luther beheld the artifices of
those who sold, and the simplicity of those who bought, indulgences. The
opinions of Thomas Aquinas and the other schoolmen, on which the doctrine
of indulgences was founded, had already lost mach of their authority with
him ; and the Scriptures, which he began to consider as the great standard
of theological truth, afforded no countenance to a practice equally subversive
of faith and of morals. His warm and impetuous temper did not suffer him
long to conceal such important discoveries, or to continue a silent spectator
of the delusion of his countrymen. From the_ pulpit, in the great cnurch of
Wittemberg, he inveighed bitterly against the irregularities and vices of the
monks who published indulgences; he ventured to examine the doctrines
which they taught, and poiated out to the people the danger of relying for
salvation upon any other means than those appointed by God in his word.
The boldness and noveltv of these opinions drew great attention, and beins
recommended by the autnority of Luther's personal character, and delivered
with a popular and persuasive eloquence, they made a deep impression on
his hearers. Encouraged by the favourable reception of Ms doctrines among
the people, he Nvrote to Aloert, elector of Metz and archbishop of Magde-
burg, to whose jurisdiction that pai-t of Saxony was subject, and remon-
strated warmly a^iinst the false opinions, as well as wicked lives, of the
preachers of indulgences ; but he found that prelate too deeply interested in
their success to correct their abuses. His next attempt was to gain the
suffrages of men of learning. For this purpose he pubhshed ninety-five theses
containing his sentiments with regard to indulgences. These he plroposed not
as points fully established, or of undoubted certainty, but as subjects of in-

128 LUTHER OPPOSES THE SALE OF INDULGENCES. iliOOK 11.

quiry and dispiitati9n; he appointed a day, on wliicli the learned were invited
to impugn them, either in person or by writing ; to the whole he subjoined
solemn protestations of his high respect for the apostolic see, and of Ms im-
plicit submission to its authority. No opponent appeared at the time pre-
fixed; these theses spread over Germany with astonishing rapidity; they
were read with the greatest eagerness ; and all admired the boldness of the
man who had ventured not only to call m question the plenitude of papal
power, but to attack the Dominicans, aimed with all the terrors of inquisi-
torial authority."

The friars of St. Augustine, Luther's own order, though addicted with no
less obsequiousness than the other monastic fraternities to the papal see,

gave no check to the publication of these uncommon opinions. Luther had,
y his piety and learning, acquu-ed extraordinary authority amonghis brethren ;
he professed the highest regard for the authority of the pope ; his professions
were at that time sincere; and as a secret enmity, excited by mterest or
emulation, subsists among all the monastic orders in theRomisn church, the
Augustiniaiis were highly pleased with his invectives against the Dominicaiis,
and hoped to see them exposed to the hatred and scorn of the people. Nor
was his sovereign, the elector of Saxony, the msest prince at that time in
Germany, dissatisfied with tliis obstruction which Luther threw in the way of
the publication of indulgences. He secretly encouraged the attempt, and
flattered himself that this dispute among the ecclesiastics themselves, might
give some check to the exactions of the court of Rome, which the secular
princes had long, though without success, been endeavouring to oppose.

Many zealous champions immediately arose to defend opinions on wliich
the wealth and power of the church were founded, against Luther's attacks.
In opposition to his theses, Tetzel published counter-theses at Francfort on
the Oder ; Eccius, a celebrated divine of Augsburg endeavoured to refute
Luther's notions; and Prierias, a Dominican friar, master of the sacred
palace, and inquisitor-general, wrote against him with all the virulence of a
scholastic disputant. But the maimer in which they conducted the con-
troversy did Kttle service to their cause. Luther attempted to combat in-
dulgences by arguments founded in reason or derived from Scripture ; they
produced nothing in support of them but the sentmients of schoolmen, the
conclusion of the canon law, and the decrees of popes.^^ The decision of
judges so partial and interested did not satisfy the people, who be^an to call
m question the authority even of these venerable guides, when they found
them standing ia dhect opposition to the dictates of reason, and the deter-
minations of the divuie law.'^ *

" Lutheri Opera, Jense, 1612, vol. i. prasfat. 3, p. 2, 6G. Hist, of Counc. of Trent, by
F. Paul, p. 4. Seckend. Com. Apol. p. IG.

12 F. Paul, p. G. Seckend. p. 40. Palavic. p. 8.

13 Seckend. p. 30.

* Guicciardini has asserted two things M'ith regard to the first promulgation of in-
dulgences: 1. That Leo bestowed a gift of the profits arising from the sale of indulgences
in Saxony, and the adjacent provinces of Germany, upon his sister Magdalen, the wife ot
Francescetto Cibo. Guic. lib. xiii. p. 168. 2. That Arcemboldo, a Genoese ecclesiabtic,
who had been bred a merchant, and still retained all the activity and address of that pro-
fession, was appointed by her to collect the money which should be raised. F. Paul has
followed him in both these particulars, and adds, that the Augustinians in Saxony liad
been immemorially employed in preaching indulgences; but that Arcemboldo and ]m
deputies, hoping to gain more by committing this trust to the Dominicans, had made
their bargain with Tetzel, and that Luther was prompted at first to oppose Tetzel and his
associates, by a desire of taking revenge for this injury offered to his order. F. Paul, p. .5,
Almost all historians since their time, popish as well as protestant, have, without exami-

BOOK II.] HE IS SUMMONED TO BOMS. 129

leanwhile. these novelties in Lather's doctrines which interested ail Ger-

mauv, fxcitea little atteution aud no alarm in the court of Rome. Leo, fond
of elegant and refined pleasiu'cs, intent upon great schemes of policy, a
stranger to theological controversies, and apt to despise them, regarded with
the utmost indilTerence the operations of an obscure friar, wiio, in the heart
of Gennany, carried on a scholastic disputation in a barbarous style. Little
did he apprehend, or Luther himself aream^ that the eileets of this quarrel
would be so fatal to the papal see. Leo imputed the whole to monastic
enmity and emulation, and ^seemed inclined not to interpose in the contest,
but to' allow the Augustinians and Dominicans to wrangle about the matter
with their usual animosity.

The solicitations, however, of Luther's adversaries, who were exasperated
to a high decree by the boldness and severity with v.hieh he animadverted
on their writmgs, together with the surprising progress which his opinions
made in dift'erent parts of Grermany, roused at last the attention of the court
of Kome, and obh^ed Leo to take measures for the security of the church
against an attack that now appeared too serious to be despised. For this
end, he summoned Luther to appear at Home, within sixty days, before the
auditor of the chamber and the mquisitor-general Prierias, who had written
against him, whom he empowered jointly to examine his doctrines, and to
decide coneermng them. He wrote, at the same time, to the elector of Saxony,
beseeching him not to protect a man whose heretical and profane tenets were
so shocking to pious ears ; and enjoined the provincial of the Augustinians
to check, by his authority, the rashness of an arrogant monk, which brought
disgrace upon the order of St. Augustine, and gave offence and disturbance
to the whole church.

From the strain of these letters, as well as from the nomination of a judge

nation, admitted these assertions to be true upon their authority. But, notwithstanding
the concurring testimony of two authors, so eminent both for exactness and veracity,
we may observe,

1. That Felix Contolori, who searched the pontifical archives for the purpose, could
not find this pretended grant to Leo's sister m any of those re^sters where it must
necessarily have been recorded. Falav. p. 5. — 2. That the profits arising from indulgences
in Saxony and the adjacent countries had been granted, not to Magdalen, but to Albert,
archbishop of Metz, who had the right of nommating those who published them. Seek.
p. 12. Luth. Oper. i. prcef, p. i. Palav. p. 6. — 3. That Arcemboldo never had concern
m tlie publication of indulgences in Saxony ; his district was Flanders and the Upper
and Lower Rhine. Seek. p. 14. Palav. p. 6. — 4. That Luther and his adherents never
mentioned this grant of Leo's to his sister, though a circumstance of which they could
hardly have been ignorant, and which they would have been careful not to suppress. —
5. The publication of indulgences in Germany was not usually committed to the Augus-
tinians. The promulgation of them, at three difierent periods under Julius IL, was
granted to the Franciscans; the Domhiicans had been employed in the same office a
short time before the present period. Palav. p. 46. — 6. Tne promulgation of those in-
dulgences, which first excited Luther's indignation, was entrusted to the archbishop or
Metz, in conjunction with the guardian of the Franciscans ; but the latter having de-
clined accepting of that trust, the sole right became vested in the archbishop. Palav. p. b'.
Seek. pp. IG, 17. — 7. Luther was not instigated by his superiors among the Augustinians
to attack the Dominicans their rivals, or to depreciate indulgences because they were
promulgated by them ; his opposition to their opinions and vices proceeded from more
kudable motives. Seek. pp. 15, 32. Lutheri Opera, i. p. 64, 6. — 8. A diploma of in-
dulgences is published by Herm. Von der Hardt, from which it appears that the name of
the guardian of the Franciscans is retained together with that of the archbishop, although
the former did not act. The limits of the country to which their commissions extended,
viz., the diocese of Metz, Magdeburg, Halberstadt, and the territories of the marquis of
Brandenburg, are mentioned in that diploma. Hist. LUeraria Re/ormat. pars iv. p. 14.

J-

130 LUTHER APPEAES BEFOllE THE PAPAL LEGATE. [BOOK H.

SO prejudiced and partial as Prierias. Lutlier easily saw what sentence he
might expect at Rome. He discovered, for that reason, the utmost sohcitude
to have his cause tried in Germany, and before a less suspected tribunal. The
professors in the university of Wittemberg, anxious for the safety of a man
who did so much honour to their society, wrote to the pope ; and, after em-
ploying several pretexts to excuse Luther from appearmg at Home, entreated
Leo to commit the examination of his doctrines to some persons of learning
and authority in Germany. The elector requested the same thing of the
pope's legate at the diet of Augsburg ; and as Luther himself, who, at that
time, was so far from having any intention to disclaim the papal authority,
that_ he did not _ even entertain the smallest suspicion concerning its divine
original, had written to Leo a most submissive letter, promising an unreserved
compliance with his will, the pope gratified them so far as to empower his
legate in Gennany, Cardinal Cajetan, a Dominican, eminent for scholastic
learnmg, and passionately devoted to the Roman see, to hear and deteiimne
the cause.

Luther, though he had good reason to decline a judge chosen among his
avowed adversaries, did not hesitate about appearing before Cajetan; and,
having obtained_ the emperor's safe-conduct, immediately repaired to Augs-
burg. The cardinal received him with decent respect, and endeavoui'ed at
first to gain upon him by gentle treatment. The cardinal, relying on the
superiority of his ovrn. talents as a theologian, _ entered into a formal dispute
with Luther concerning the doctriacs contained ia his theses.* But the
weapons which they employed were so different, Cajetan appealing to papal
decrees and the opinions of schoolmen, and Luther resting entirely on the
authority of Scripture, that the contest was altogether fruitless. The cardinal
relinquished the character of a disputant, and, assuming that of a judge, en-
joined Luther, by virtue of the apostolic powers with which he was clothed
to retract the errors which he had uttered with regard to indulgences, and
the nature of faith; and to abstain, for the future, from the publication of
new and dangerous opinions. Luther, fully persuaded of the truth of his
own tenets, and confirmed in the belief of them by the approbation which
they had met with among persons conspicuous both for learning and piety,
was surprised at this abrupt mention of a recantation, before any endeavours
were used to convince him that he was mistaken. He had flattered himself,
that, in a conference concerning the points in dispute with a prelate of such
distinguished abilities, he should be able to remove many of those imputations
with which the ignorance or malice of his antagonists had loaded him ; but
the high tone of authority that the cardinal assumed, extinguished at once
all hopes of this kind, and cut off every prospect of advantage from the inter-
view. His native intrepidity of mmd, however, did not desert him. He
declared with the utmost firmness, that he could not, with a safe conscience,
renounce opinions which he believed to be true; nor should any consideration
ever induce him to do what would be so base in itself, and so offensive to
God. At the same time, he continued to express no less reverence than for-
merly for the authority of the apostolic^ see ; |* he signified his wUhngness to
submit the whole controversy to certam universities which he named, and
promised neither to write nor to preach concerning indulgences for the
tuture, provided his adversaries were likewise enjoined to oe silent with
respect to them.'^ All these offers Cajetan disregarded or rejected, and still

* In the former editions I asserted, upon the authority of Father Paul, that Cajetan
thought it beneath liis dignity to enter into any dispute with Luther; but M. Beausobrc,
in his Histoire de la Reformation, vol. i. pp. 121, iScc, has satisfied me that I was mis-
takeii. See also Seckend. lib. L pp. 46, &c.

" Luth. Oper. vol. I p. 164. is Luth. Oper. vol. i. p 160

BOOK n.] THE ELECTOR OF SAXONY. 131

insisted peremptorily on a simple recantation, threatening him with eccle-
siastical censures, and forbidding him to appear again in liis presence, unless
he resolved instantly to comply with what he had required. This haughty
and violent manner of proceeding, as well as other circumstances, gave
Luther's friends such strong reasons to suspect, that even the imperial safe-
conduct would not be able to protect him from the legate's power and re-
sentment, that they prevailed on liim to withdraw secretly from Augsburg,
and to retiini to his own country. But before his departure, according to a
form of wliich there had been some examples, he prepared a solemn appeal
from the pope, ill informed at that time concerning his cause, to the pope
when he should receive more full information with respect to it.""

Cajetan, enraged at Luther's abrupt retreat, and at the publication of his
appeal, wrote to the elector of Saxony, complaming of botli ; and requiring
hun, as he regarded the peace of the chui-ch, or the authority of its head,
either to send that seditious monk a prisoner to Rome, or to banish him out
of his territories. It was not from theological considerations that Frederic
had hitherto countenanced Luther ; he seems to have been much a stranger
to controversies of that kind, and to have been little interested in them.
His protection flowed almost entirely, as hath been already observed, from
politicid motives, and was afforded with great secrecy and caution. He had
neither heard any of Luther's discourses, nor read any of liis books; and
though all Germany resounded \vith his fame, he had never once admitted
him into his presence.'^ Eut upon this demand which the cardinal made, it
became necessary to throw off somewhat of his former reser\'e. He had been
at great expense, and had bestowed much attention on founding a new uni-
versity, an object of considerable importance to every German prince ; and
foreseeing how fatal a blow the removal of Luther would be to its reputa-
tion, '^ he, under various pretexts, and with many professions of esteem for
the cardinal, as well as of reverence for the pope, not only declined complying
with either of his requests, but openly discovered great concern for Luther's
safety."*

The inflexible rigour with which Cajetan insisted on a simple recantation,
gave great offence to Luther's followers in that age, and hath since been cen-
sured as imprudent by several popish -wTiters. But it was impossible for
the legate to act another part. The judges before whom Luther had been
required to appear at Home, were so eager to display theii- zeal against his
errors^ that, without waiting for the expiration of sixty days allowed him in
the citation, they had already condemned him as a heretic.-" Le9 had,
in several of his briefs and letters, stigmatized him as a chUd of iniquity,
and a man given up to a reprobate sense. Nothing less, therefore, than a
recantation could save the honour of the church, whose maxim it is, never to
abandon the smallest point that it has established, and which is even pre-
cluded, by its pretensions to infallibility, from having it in its power to do so.
. Luther's situation, at this time, was such as would have tilled any other
person with the most disquieting apprehensions. He could not expect that
a prince so prudent and cautious as Frederic would, on his accomit, set at
defiance the thunders of the church, and brave the papal power, which had
crushed some of the most powerful of the German emperors. He knew what
generation was paid, in that age, to ecclesiastical decisions j what teiTors
[■l^siastical censures carried along with them, and how easdy these might
^^Hpoidate and shake a pruice, who was rather his protector from policy,

" Sleid. Hist, of Reform, p. 7. Seckend. p, 45. Luth. Oper. i. 163.
" Seckend. p. 27. Sleid. ili^t. p. 12. is Seckend. p. 59.

» Sleid. Hist. p. 10. Luth. Oper. i. p. 172. -<> Luther. Oper. i. p. 161.

jl2

132 DEATH OF THE EMPEROR MAXIMILIAN. [uOOK II.

than his disciple from conviction. If he should be obliged to quit Saxon;. ,
he had no prospect of any other asylum, and must stand exposed to whatever
punishment the rage or bigotry of his enemies could inflict. Though sensible
of his danger, he discovered no symptoms of timidity or remissness, but con-
tinued to vindicate his own conduct and opinions, and to inveigh against
those of his adversaries with more vehemence than ever.-^

But as every step taken by the court of Rome, particularly the irregiiV
sentence by wliich he had been so precipitately declared a heretic, convmcv
Luther that Leo would soon proceed to the most violent measures agaiuM
him, he had recourse to the oiuy expedient in his power, in order to prevent
the effect of the papal censures. _ He appealed to a general council, which
he affirmed to be the representative of the cathoHc church, and superior in
power to the pope, who, being a fallible man, might err, as St. Peter, the
most perfect of his predecessors, had erred.^^

It soon appeared, that Luther had not formed rash conjectures concerning
the intentions of the Romish church. A buU of a date prior to his appeal
was issued by the pope, in which he magnifies the virtue and efficacy ot in-
dulgences, in. terms as extravagant as any of his predecessors had ventured
to use in the darkest ages ; and, without applying such palliatives, or men-
tioning such concessions, as a more enlightened period, and the disposition
in the minds of many men at that juncture, seemed to call for, he required all
Christians to assent to what he delivered as the doctrine of the catholic
church, and subjected those who should hold or teach any contrary opinion,
to the heaviest ecclesiastical censures.

Among Luther's followers, this bull, which they considered as an unjustifi-
able effort of the pope, in order to preserve that rich branch of his revenue
which arose from mdnlgences, produced little effect. But among the rest of
his countrymen, such a clear decision of the sovereign pontiff against liim,
and enforced by such dreadful penalties, must have been attended with con-
sequences very fatal to his cause, if these had not been prevented in a great
measure by the death of the emperor Maximilian [1519], whom both his
prmciples and his interest prompted to support the authority of the holj see.
in consequence of this event, the vicariat of that part of Germany which is
governed by the Saxon laws, devolved to the elector of Saxony ; and under
the shelter of his friendly administration, Luther not only enjoyed tran-
quillity, but his opinions were suffered, during the interregnum which pre-
ceded Charles's election, to take root in different places, and to grow up to
some degree of strength and fiminess. At the same time, as the election of
an emperor was a point more interesting to Leo than a theological con-
troversy which he did not understand, and of which he could not foresee the
consequences, he was so extremely solicitous not to irritate a prince of such
considerable influence in the electoral college as Frederic, that he discovered
a great unwiOingness to pronounce the sentence of excommunication against
Luther, which Ms adversaries continually demanded with the most clamor-
ous importunity. _ _

To these political views of the pope, as well as to his natural aversion
from severe measures, was owing the suspension of any further proceedings
againt Luther for eighteen months. Perpetual negotiations, however, m order
to bring the matter to some amicable issue, were carried on during that space.
The manner in which these were conducted having given Luther many op-
portimities of observing the corruption of the court of Rome ; its obstmacy
in adhering to established errors ; and its indifference about truth, however
clearly proposed, or strongly proved, he began to utter some doubts with

2» Seckend. p. 59. » sieid. Hist, 12. Luth, Oper. I 179.

BOOK n.] BULL OF EXCOMMUNICATION 133

regard to the divine original of the papal authority. A public disputation was
held upon this important question at Leipsic, between Luther and Eccius, one
of liis most learned and formidable antagonists ; but it was as fruitless and
indecisive as such scholastic combats usually prove. Both parties boasted of
having obtained the victory ; both were contirnied in their own opinions ; and
no progress was made towards deciding the point in controversy.'^^

Is or did the spmt of opposition to the doctrines and usurpations of the
Romish church break out in Saxony alone ; an attack no less violent, and
occasioned by the same causes, was made upon them about this time in
Switzerland. The Franciscans beiag entrusted with the promulgation of
indulgences in that country, executed their commission with the same indis-
cretion and rapaciousness which had rendered the Dominicans so odious in
Germany. They proceeded, nevertheless, with uninterrupted success tUl they
arrived at Zurich. There ZuingKus, a man not inferior to Luther himself in
zeal and intrepidity, ventured to oppose them ; and being animated with a re-
publican boldness, and free from those restraints which subjection to the will
of a prince imposed on the German reformerj he advanced with more daring
and rapid steps to overturn the whole fabric of the established religion.^*
The appearance of such a vigorous auxiliary, and the progress which he made,
was, at iirst, matter of great joy to Luther. On the other hand, the decrees
of the universities of Cologne and Louvain, which pronounced his opinions to
be erroneous, afforded great cause of triumph to his adversaries.

But the undaunted spirit of Luther acquired additional fortitude from every
instance of opposition ; and, pushing on his inquiries and attacks from one
doctrine to another, he began to shake the firmest foundations on which the
wealth or power of the chui-ch was established. Leo came at last to be con-
vinced that all hopes of reclaiming him by forbearance were vain ; several
prelates of great wisdom exclaimed, no less than Luther's personal adver-
saries, against the pope's unprecedented lenity in permitting an incorrigible
heretic, who. during three years, had been endeavouring to subvert every-
thing sacrea and venerable, still to remain witliin the bosom of the church ;
the dignity of the papal see rendered the most vigorous proceedings ne-
cessary ; the new emperor, it was hoped, would support its authority ; nor
did it seem probable that the elector of Saxony would so far forget his
usual caution as to set himself in opposition to their united power. The
coUege of cardinals was often assembled, in order to prepare the sentence
with due deliberation, and the ablest canonists were consulted how it might
be expressed with unexceptionable formality. At last, on the fifteenth of
June, one thousand five hundred and twenty, the bull, so fatal to the church
of Rome, was issued, Forty-one propositions, extracted out of Luther's
works, are therein condemned as heretical, scandalous, and offensive to pious
ears ; all persons are forbidden to read his writings, upon pain of excommuni-
cation ; such as had any of them in their custody were commanded to commit,
tbem to the flames ; he himself, if he did not, within sixty days, publicly
recant his errors and bum his books, is pronounced an obstiaate heretic,
is excommunicated, and delivered unto Satan for the destruction of his flesh ;
and aU secular princes are required, under pain of incurring the same censure,
to seize Ijis person, that he might be punislied as his crimes deserved.-^

The puolication of this bull m Germany excited various passions in different
places. Luther's adversaries exulted, as if his party and opinions had been
crushed at once by such a decisive blow. His followers, whose reverence
for the papal authority daily diminished, read Leo's anathemas with more

2» Luth. Oper. i. p. 199. 24 sieid. Hist. p. 22. Seckend. p. 59.

25 Palavic. p. 27. Luth. Oper. i. p. 423.

134 PE.OGRESS OE THE REFORaiATION IN GERMANY. [BOOK II.

indignation than terror. In some cities, the people violently obstmcted the
promulgation of the bull ; in others, the persons who attempted to publish
it were insulted, and the bull itself was torn in pieces, and trodden under
foot.^

The sentence, which he had for some time expected, did not disconcert or
intimidate Lutner. After renewing his appeal to the general council, he
published remarks upon the bull of excommunication • and bein^ now per-
suaded that Leo had been guilty both of impiety and injustice m his pro-
ceedings against him, he boldly declared the pope to be that man of sin, or
Antichrist, whose appearance is foretold in the New Testament ; he declaimed
against his tyranny and usui-pations with greater violence than ever ; lie ex-
horted all Christian princes to sliake off such an ignominious yoke, and boasted
of his own happiness in being marked out as the object of ecclesiastical indig-
nation, because he had ventured to assert the liberty of mankind. Nor did
he confine his expressions of contempt for the papal power to words alone :
Leo having, in execution of the bull, apjaointed Luther's books to be burnt
at Rome, he, by way of retaliation, assembled all the professors and students
in the university of Wittemberg, and with great pomp, in presence of a vast
multitude of spectators, cast the volumes of the canon law. together with
the bull of excommunication, into the flames ; and his example was imitated
in several cities of Germany. The manner in wiiicli he justified this action
was still more offensive than the action itself. Having collected from the
canon law some of the most extravagant propositions with regard to the
plenitude and omnipotence of the papal power, as well as the subordination
of all secular jurisdiction to the authority^ of the holy see, he publislied
these with a commentary, pointiiig out the impiety of such tenets, and their
evident tendency to subvert all civil government.'^''

Such was the progress which Luther had made, and such the state of
his party, when Charles arrived in Germany. No secular prince had hitherto
embraced Luther's opinions ; no change in the established forms of worship
had been introduced ; and no encroachments had been made upon the posses-
sions or jurisdiction of the clergy ; neither party had yet proceeded to action ;
and the controversy, though conducted with great heat and passion on both
sides, was still carried on with its proper weapons, with theses, disputations,
and replies. _ A deep impression, however, vv^as made upon the minds of the
people ; their reverence for ancient institutions and doctrines was shaken ; and
the materials were already scattered, which kindled into the combustion that
soon spread over all Germany. Students crowded from every pro\dnce of
the empire to Wittemberg; and under Luther himself, Melancthon, Carlo-
stadius, and other masters then reckoned eminent, imbibed opinions wiuch,
on their return, they propagated among their countrymen, who listened to
them with that fond attention which truth, when accompanied with novelty,
naturally commands. ^^

During the course of these transactions, the court of Rome, though
under the direction of one of its ablest pontiffs, neither formed its schemes
with that profound sagacity, nor executed them with that steady perseverance,
which had long rendered it the most perfect model of political wisdom to the
rest of Europe. When Luther began to declaim against indulgences, two
different methods of treating him lay before the pope, by adopting one of
which, the attempt, it is probable, might have been crushed, and by tlie other
it might have been rendered innocent. If Luther's first departui-e from the
doctrines of the church had instantly drawn upon him the weight of its cen-
sures, the dread of these might have restrained the elector of Saxony from

25 Seckend. p. 116. 2/ L^th. Oper. ii. p. 316. ^ Seckend. p. 59.

BOOK II.] CAUSES OF THE rEOGRESS OP THE REFOUMATIOII. 13&

protecting him, might have deterred the people from listening to dis dis-
courses, or even might have overawed Luther liimself ; and his name, like
that of many good men before his time, would now have been known to the
world only for his honest but ill-tiraod effort to correct the corruj^tions of
the llomish churcli. On tlie other hand, if the pope had early testified some
displeasure with the vices and excesses of the friars who had been employed

1 publisliing indulgences ; if he had forbidden the mentioning of controverted
.(Hilts in discourses addressed to the people ; if he had enjoined the disputants
on botli sides to be silent ; if he had been careful not to risk the credit of tlie
chui-ch by defining articles which had hitherto been left undetermined, Luther
would, probably, have stopped short at his first discoveries ; he would not
have been forced, in self-defence, to venture upon new ground, and the whole
controversv might possibly have died away insensibly : or, being confined en-
tirely to tlie schools, might have been carried on with as little detriment to
the peace and unity of the Romish church as that which the Franciscans main-
tained with tlie Dominicans conccrumg the immaculate conception, or that
between the Janseiiists and Jesuits concerning the operations of grace. But
Leo, by fluctuating between those opposite systems, and by embracing them
alternately, defeated the effects of both. By an improper exertion of autho-
rity, Luther was exasperated, but not restrained. By a mistaken exercise
of lenity, time was given for his opinions to spread, but no progress was
made towards reconciling liim to the church ; and even the sentence of excom-
munication, which at another juncture might have been decisive, was delayed
so long, that it became at last scarcely an object of terror.

Such a series of errors in the measures of a court seldom chargeable with
mistaking its own true iuterest, is not more astonishing than the wisdom
which appeared iu Luther's conduct. Though a perfect stranger to the
maxims or worldly wisdom, and incapable, from the impetuosity of his temper,
of observing them, he was led naturally, by the method in which he made his
discoveries, to cany on his operations in a manner which contributed more to
their success, than if every step he took had been prescribed by the most
artful policy. At the time when he set himself to oppose Tetzel, he was far
from intending that reformation which he afterwards effected j and would
have trembled with horror at the thoughts of what at last he gloried in accom-
pHshing. The knowledge of truth was not poured into his miud all at once by
any special revelation ; he acquired it by industry and meditation, and his
progress, of consequence, was gradual. The doctrines of popery are so
closely connected, that the exposing of one error conducted him naturally to
the detection of others ; and all the parts of that artificial fabric were so
united together, that the pulling down of one loosened the foundation of the
rest, and rendered it more easy to overturn tliem. In confuting the extra-
vagant tenets concerning indulgences, he was obliged to inquire into the true
cause of our justification and acceptance with God. The loiowledge of that
discovered to him by degrees the inutility of pilgiiniages and penances ;
the vanity of relying on the intercession of saints ; the impiety of worshipping
them ; the abuses of auricular confession ; and the imaginary existence of
purgatory. The detection of so many errors led him, of course, to consider
the character of the clergy who taught them ; and their exorbitant wealth,
the severe injimetion of celibacy, together with the intolerable rigour oi
monastic vows, appeai-ed to hun the great sources of their corruption. From
thence, it was but one step to call in question the divine original of the
papal power, wliich authorized and supported such a system of errors. As
the unavoidable residt of the whole, he disclaimed the infallibility of the pope,
the decisions of schoolmen, or any other human authority, and appealed to
the word of God as the only standard of theological truth. To this gradual

136 CAUSES OP THE PROGRESS OF THE EEPORMATION. [BOOK U,

process Luther owed Ms success. His hearers were not shocked at first
by any proposition too repugnant to their ancient prejudices, or too remote
from established opinions. They were conducted insensibly from one doc-
trine to another. Their faith and conviction were able to keep pace with his
discoveries. To the same cause was owing the inattention, and even in-
difference, with which Leo viewed Luther's first proceedings. A direct or
violent attack upon the authority of the church would at once have drawn
upon Luther the whole weight of its vengeance ; but as this was far from his
thoughts, as he continued long to profess great respect for the pope, and
made repeated offers of submission to his decisions, there seemed to be no
reason for apprehendiag that he would prove the author of any desperate
revolt ; and he was siiffered to proceed step by step in undermining the
constitution of the church, untU the remedy applied at last came too late to
produce any effect.

But whatever advantages Luther's cause derived either from the mistakes
of his adversaries, or from his own good conduct, the sudden progress and
firm establishment of his doctrines must not be ascribed to these alone. The
same corruptions in the church of Rome which he condemned, had been
attacked long before his time. The same opinions which he now propa-
gated, had been published la different places, and were supported by the
same arguments. Waldus in the twelfth century, Wickliff in the fourteenth,
and Huss in the fifteenth, had inveighed against the errors of popery with
great boldness, and confuted them with more ingenuity and learning than
could have been expected in those illiterate ages in which they flourished.
But all these premature attempts towards a reformation proved abortive.
Such feeble lights, incapable of dispelling the darkness which then covered the
church, were soon extinguished; and though the doctrines of these pious
men produced some effects, and left some traces in the countries where they
taught, they were neither extensive nor considerable. Many powerful causes
contributed to facilitate Luther's progress, which either did not exist, or did
not operate with full force, in their days ; and at that critical and mature
juncture when he appeared, circumstances of every kind concurred in ren-
dering each step that lie took successful.

The long and scandalous schism which divided the church duringthe latter
part of the fourteenth and the beginning of the fifteenth centuries, had a
great effect in diminishing the veneration with which the world had been
accustomed to view the papal dignity. Two or three contending pontiffs
roamiiig about Europe at a time ; fawning on the princes whom they wanted
to gain ; extorting large sums of money from the countries which acknow-
ledged their authority ; excommunicating their rivals, and cursing those who
adhered to them, discredited their pretensions to infallibility, and exposed
both their persons and their office to contempt. The laity, to whom all parties
appealed, came to learn that some right of private judgment belonged to
inem, and acquired the exercise of it so far as to choose, among these infal-
Kble guides, whom they would please to follow. The proceedings of the
councils of Constance and Basil spread this disrespect for tlie Romish see still
vrider, and by their bold exertion of authority in deposing and electing popes,
taught men that there was in the church a jurisdiction superior even to the
papal power, which they had long believed to be supreme.

The wound given on that occasion to the papal authority was scarcely
healed up, when the pontificates of Alexander VI. and Julius II., both able

5rinces, but detestable ecclesiastics, raised new scandal in Christendom,
'he profligate morals of the former in private life ; the fraud, the injustice,
and cruelty, of his public administration, nlace him on a level with those
tyrants whose deeds are the greatest reproacn to human nature. The latter.

■

BOOK II.] GKOSS IMMORALITY OP THE EOmSHCLERGI. 137

though a stranger to the odious passions which prompted his predecessor to
commit so many unnatural crimes, was under the dominion of a restless and
ungovernable ambition, that scorned all considerations of gratitude, of de-
cency, or of justice, when they obstructed the execution of his schemes. It
was hardly possible to be firaily persuaded that the infallible kno\yledge of a
religion, whose chief precepts are purity and humility, was deposited in the
breasts of the profligate Alexander or the overbearing Julius. The opinion
of those who exalted the authority of a council above that of the pope,
spread wonderfully under their pontificates ; and as the emperor and French
kmgs^ who were alternately engaged in hostilities with those active pontiffs,
permitted, and even enoouraged their subjects to expose their vices with all
the violence of invective, and all the petulance of ridicule, men's ears being
accustomed to these, were not shocked with the bold or ludicrous discourses
of Luther and his followers concerning the papal dignity.

Nor were such excesses confined to the head of the church alone. Many of
the dignified clergy, secular as well as regular, beinff the younger sons of
noble families, who had assumed the ecclesiastical character, for no other
reason but that they found in the church stations of great dignity and
affluence, were accustomed totally to neglect the duties of their office, and in-
dulged themselves without reserve in all the vices to which great wealth and
idleness naturally give birth. Though the inferior clergy were prevented
by their poverty from imitating the expensive luxury of their superiors, yet
gross ignorance and low debauchery rendered them as contemptible as the
others were odious.-^ The severe and unnatural law of celibacy, to which
both .were equally subject, occasioned such irregularities, that in several parts
of Europe the concubinage of priests was not only permitted, but enjomed.
The employing of a remedy so contrary to the precepts of the Christian re-
ligion, is the strongest proof that the crimes it was intended to prevent were
both numerous and flagrant. Long before the sixteenth centurVj many
authors of great name and authority give such descriptions of the dissolute
morals of the clergy, as seem almost incredible in the present age.^** The

" The corrupt state of the church prior to the reformation is acknowledged by an
author, who was both abundantly able to judge concerning this matter, and who was not
overforward to confess it. " For some years (says Bellarmine) before the Lutheran and
Calvinistic heresies were published, there was not (as contemporary authors testify)
any severity in ecclesiastical judicatories, any discipline with regard to morals, any know-
ledge of sacred literature, any reverence for divine things ; there was not almost any
religion remaining." Bellarminus, Concio xxviii. Oper. torn. vi. col. 296, edit. Colon.
1617, apud Gerdesii Hist. Evan. Renovati, vol. i. p. 25.

30 Centum Gravamina Kation. German, in Fascicule Rer, expetend. et fugiendarum,
per Ortuinum Gratium, vol. L 361. See innumerable passages to the same purpose iji
the Appendix, or second volume, published by Edw. Brown. See also Herm. Von der
Hardt, Hist. Lit. Reform, pars iii., and the vast collections of Walchius in his four volumes
of Monumenta Medii jEvi. Gottin. 1757,

The authors I have quoted enumerate the vices of the clergy. When they ventured
upon actions manifestly criminal, we may conclude that they would be less scrupulous
with respect to the decorum of behaviour. Accordingly their neglect of the decent conduct
Buitable to their profession, seems to have given great offence. In order to illustrate this,
I shall transcribe one passage, because it is not taken from any author whose professed
purpose it was to describe the improper conduct of the clergy ; and who, from prejudice
or artifice, may be supposed to aggravate the charge against them. The emperor Charles
IV., in a letter to the archbishop of Mentz, a.d. 1359, exhorting him to reform the dis-
orders of the clergy, thus expresses himself: " De Christi patrimonio, ludos, hastiludia et
tomeamenta exercent ; habitum militarem cum prajtextis aureis et argenteis gestant, et
calceoa militares ; comam et barbam nutriunt, et nihil quod at vitam et ordinera ecclesi-
asticum spectat, ostendunt. Militaribus se duntaxat et secularibus actibus, vita et mori-

138 GROSS IMMOBAUTY OF THE EOMISH CLERGY. [BOOK II.

voluptuous lives of ecclesiastics occasioned great scandal, not only because
their manners were inconsistent with their sacred character ; but the laity,
being accustomed to see several of them raised from the lowest stations to
the greatest affluence, did not show the same indulgence to their excesses,
as to those of persons possessed of hereditary wealth or ^andeur; and
viewing their condition with more envy, they censured then: crimes with
greater severity. Nothing, therefore, could be more acceptable to Luther's
hearers, that the violence with which he exclaimed against the immoralities
of churchmen, and every person in his audience could, from his own observa-
tion, confirm the truth ofliis invectives.

The scandal of these crimes was greatly increased by the faciUty with which
such as committed them obtained pardon. In all the European kingdoms,
the importance of the civil magistrate, under forms of government extremely
irregular and turbulent, made it necessary to relax the rigour of justice, and
upon payment of a certain fine or composition prescribed by law, judges
were accustomed to remit further punishment, even of the most atrocious
crimes. The court of Rome, always attentive to the means of augmenting
its revenues, imitated this practice; and, by a preposterous accommodation
of it to rebgious^ concerns, granted its pardons to such transgressors as gave
a sum of money in order to pui-chaso them. As the idea of a composition for
crimes was then famibar, this strange traffic was so far from shocking man-
kind, that it soon became genera) ; and in order to prevent any imposition in
carrying it on, the officers of the Roman chancery piibbshed a book, containing
the precise sura to be exacted for the pardon of every particular sin. A deacon,
guilty of murder, was absolved for twenty crowns. A bishop, or abbot, might
assassinate for three hundred Hvres. Any ecclesiastic might violate his voays
of chastity, even with the most aggravating circumstances, for the third part
of that suni. Even such shocking crimes as occur seldom in human life, and
perhaps exist only in the impure imagination of a casuist, v/ere taxed at a
yerj^ moderate rate. When a more regular and perfect mode of dispensing
justice came to be introduced into civil courts, the practice of paying a com-
position for crimes went gradually into disuse ; and mankind having acquired
more accurate notions concerniug religion and morality, the conditions on
which the court of Rome bestowed its pardons appeared impious, and were
considered as one great source of ecclesiastical corruption.^'

This degeneracy of manners among the clergj' might have been tolerated,
perhaps, with greater iudiilgence, if their exorbitant riches and power liad
not enabled them, at the same time, to encroach on the rights of every other
order of men. It is the genius of superstition, fond of whatever is pompous
or grand, to set no bounds to its liberabty towards persons whom it esteems
sacred, and to think its expressions of regard defective, unless it hath raised
them to the height of wealth and authority. Hence flowed the_ extensive
revenues and jurisdiction possessed by the church in every country in Europe,
and which were become intolerable to the laity, from whose undisceming
bounty they were at first derived.

The burden, however, of ecclesiastical oppression, had fallen with such pe-
cuHar weight on the Germans, as rendered them, thougli naturally exempt
from levity, and tenacious of their ancient customs, more inclinable than any
people in Europe to listen to those who called on them to assert their b-

bus, in suae salutis dispendium, et generale populi scandalum, immiscent." Codei Djpio-
maticus Anecdotorum, per Val. Ferd. Gudenura, 4to. vol. iii. p. 438.

21 Fascicul. Rer. expet. et fug. i. p. 355. J. G. Schelhornii Amonit. Literar. Francof.
1725, vol ii. p. 369. Diction, de Bayle, Artie. Banck et Tuppius, Taxa Cancellar. Ro-
manas, edit iVancof. 1651, passim-

p

■

BOOK n.J IMMUNITIES Or THE CLEKGY. 139

berty. During the long contests between the popes and emperors concerning
the ri£?Ut of mvestiture, and tlio wars which these occasioned, most of the
considerable German ecclesiastics ioined the papal faction; and while en-
gaged in rebellion against the head of the empire, they seized the imperial
domtiius and revenues, and usurped the imperijil jurisdiction within their own
dioceses. Upon the re-establishment of trauciiullity, they still retained these
usurpations, as if by the length of an unjust possession they had acquired a
legal right to them. The emperors, too feeble to wrest them out of their
hands, were obliged to grant the clergy fiefs of those ample territories, and
they enjoyed all the immunities, as wcjl as honours, which belonged to feudal
barons. By means of these, many bishops and abbots in Germany were not
only ecclesiastics, but princes, and their character and manners i)artook more
of the licence too frequent among the latter, than of the sanctity which be-
came the former.^

The unsettled state of government in Germany, and the frequent wars to
which that country was exposed, contributed in another manner towards ag-
grandizing ecclesiastics. The only property, duiiug those times of anarchy,
which enjoyed security from the oppression of the great, or the ravages of
war, was that which belonged to the church. This was owing not only to the
great reverence for the sacred character prevalent in those ages, but to a
superstitious di-ead of the sentence of excommunication, which the clergy
were ready to denounce against all who invaded their possessions. Many
observing this, made a surrender of their lands to ecclesiastics, and con-
senting to hold them in fee of the church, obtained as its vassal a degree of
safety, which without this device they were unable to procure. By such an
increase of the number of their vassals, the power of ecclesiastics received a
real and permanent augmentation ; and as lauds held in fee, by the limited
tenures common in those ages, often returned to the persons on whom the
fief depended, considerable additions were made in tliis way to the property
of the clergy.^

The solicitude of the clergy in providing for the safety of their o^n persons,
was still greater than that which they displayed in securing their possessions :
and theii" efforts to attain it were still more successful. As they were con-
secrated to the priestly ofiice with much outward solemnity; were distin-
guished from the rest of mankind by a peculiar garb and manner of life ; and
arrogated to their order many privileges which do not belong to other Chris-
tiaiis, they naturally became the objects of excessive veneration. As a super-
stitious spirit spread, they were regarded as beings of a superior species to
the profane laity, whom it would be impious to try by the same laws, or to
subject to the same pmiishments. This exemption from civil jurisdiction,
granted at first to ecclesiastics as a mark of respect, they soon claimed as a
point of right. This valuable immunity of the priesthood is asserted, not
only in_ the decrees of popes and councils, but was confirmed in the most
ample fonn by many of the greatest emperors.^* As long as the clerical cha-
racter remained, the person of an ecclesiastic was in some degree sacred ; and
unless he were degraded from his ofiice, the unhallowed hand of the civil
judge durst not touch hun. But as the power of degradation was lodged in
the spiritual courts, the difficulty and expense of obtainii'" such a sentence
too often secui-ed absolute impunity to pneuders. Many assumed the clerical
character for no other reason than that it might screen them from the punish-

s- F. Paul, History of Ecclesiast. Benefices, p. 107.

33 F, Paul, Hist, of Eccles. Benef. p. G6. BoulainviUiers, Etat de France, toin. i. p. 169,
Lond. 1737.
3* Goldaeti Constitut. Imperial. Francof. 1673, vol. ii. pp. 92, 107,

140 SPIRITTIAL CENSURES. fBOOK II.

ment which their actions deserved." The German nobles complained loudly
that these anointed malefactors, as they called them,^ seldom suffered capitally,
even for the most atrocious crimes ; and their independence of the civil ma-
gistrate is often mentioned in the remonstrances ol the diets, as a privilege
equally pernicious to society and to the morals of the clergy.

While the clergy asserted the privileges of their own order with so much
zeal, they made continual encroachments upon those of the laity. All causes
relative to matrimony, to testaments, to usury, to legitimacy of birth, as
weU as those which concerned ecclesiastical revenues, were thought to be so
connected with religion, that they could be tried only in the spiritual courts.
Not satisfied with this ample jurisdiction, which extended to one-half of the
subjects that gave rise to litigation among men, the clergy, with wonderful
industry, and by a thousand inventions, endeavoured to draw aU other causes
into their own courts.^ As they had engrossed almost the whole learning
known in the dark a^es, the spiritual judges were commonly so far superior
in knowledge and abilities to those employed in the secular courts, that the
people at first favoured any stretch that was made to bring their affairs under
the cognisance of a judicature, on the decisions of which th^ could rely with
more perfect confidence than on those of the civil courts. Thus the interest
of the church and the inclination of the people concurring to elude the juris-
diction of the lay magistrate, soon reduced it almost to nothing,^^ By means
of this, vast power accrued to ecclesiastics, and no inconsiderable addition
was made to tneir revenue by the sums paid in those ages to the persons who
administered justice. ...

The penalty by which the spiritual courts enforced their sentences added
great weight and terror to their jurisdiction. The censrre of excommuni-
cation was instituted originally for preserving the purity of the church ; that
obstinate offenders, whose impious tenets or protane lives were a reproach
to Christianity, might be cut off from the society of the faithful ; this, eccle-
siastics did not scruple to convert into an engine for promoting their own
power, and they inflicted it on the most frivolous occasions. Whoever despised
any of their decisions, even concerning civil matters, immediately incurred this
dreadful censure, which not only excluded them from all the privileges of a
Christian, but deprived them of their rights as men and citizens ;^^ and the
dread of this rendered even the most fierce and turbulent spirits obsequious
to the authority of the church.

Nor did the_ clergy neglect the proper methods of preserving the wealth
and power which they had acquired with such industry and address. The
possessions of the church being consecrated to God, were declared to be in-
alienable ; so that the funds of ai society which was daily gaining, and could
never lose, grew to be immense. In Germany, it was computed that the
ecclesiastics bad got into their hands more than one-half of the national pro-
pertv.'"' In other countries the proportion varied ; but the share belonging
to the church was everywhere prodigious. These vast possessions were not
subject to the burdens imposed on the lands of the laity. The German clergy
were exempted by law from aD. taxes ;*^ and if, on an extraordinary emergence,
ecclesiastics were pleased to grant some aid t9wards supplying the public
exigencies, this was considered as a free gift flowing from their own generosity,
which the civil magLstrate had no title to demand, far less to exact In con-

3* Eymer's Foedera, vol. xiii. p. 532. ^^ Centum Gravam. § 31.

37 Giannone, Hist, of Naples, book six, § 3. ^s Centum Gravam. § 9, oS, 64.

39 Ibid. § 34. " Ibid. § 28.

<i Centum Gravam. Golda^ti Const. Imper. ii. 79, 108. Pfeffel, Hist, du Droit Publ.
pp. 350, 374.

BOOK II.] aOMISH EXPEDIENTS Ul

sequence of this strange solecism in government, the laity in Germany had
the mortification to find themselves loaded with excessive impositions, because
such as possessed the greatest property were freed from any obligation to
support or defend the state.

Grievous, however, as the exorbitant wealth and numerous privileges of the
clerical order were to the other members of the Germanic body, they would
have reckoned it some mitigation of the evil if these had been possessed only
by ecclesiastics residing among themselves, who would have been less apt to
make an improper use of their riches, or to exercise their rights with unbe-
coming rigour. But the bishops of Kome having early put in a claim the
boldest that ever human ambition suggested, of being supreme and infallible
heads of the Christian church, they, by their profound policy and unwearied
perseverance — by their address in availing themselves of every circumstance
which occurred — by taking advantage of the superstition of some princes,
of the necessities ot others, and of the credulity of the people, at length esta-
blished their i)retensions in opposition both to the interest and common
sense of mankind. Germany was the country which these ecclesiastical
sovereigns governed with most absolute authority. They excommunicated
and deposed some of its most illustrious emperors, and excited their sub-
jects, their ministers, and even their children, to take arms against them.
Amidst these contests, the popes continually extended their own immu-
nities, spoiling the secular prmces gradually of their most valuable prero-
gatives, and the German church felt all the rigour of that oppression which
flows from subjection to foreign dominion and foreign exactions.

The right of conferring benefices, which the popes usui-ped during that period
of confusion, was an acquisition of great importance, and exalted the eccle-
siastical power upon the ruins of the temporal. The emperors and other
princes ot Germany had long been in possession of this right, which served
to increase both their authority and their revenue : but, by wresting it out of
their hands, the popes were enabled to fill the empire with their o^Tn. crea-
tures ; they accustomed a great body of every prince's subjects to depend,
not upon him, but upon the Roman see ; they bestowed upon strangers the
richest benefices in every countrj'. and drained their wealth to supply the
luxury of a foreign court. Even the patience of the most superstitious ages
could no longer bear such oppression ; and so loud and frequent were the
complaints and murmurs of the Germans, that the popes, afraid of iiTitatmg
them too far, consented, contrary to their usual practice, to abate somewhat
of their pretensions, and to rest satisfied with the right of nomination to
such benefices as happened to fall vacant during six months in the year,
leaving the disposal of the remainder to the princes and other legal patrons."

But the court of Rome easily found expedients for eluding an agreement
which put such restraints on its power. The practice of reserving certain
benefices in every country to the pope's immeoiate nomination, which had
been long known, and often complained of, was extended far beyond its
ancient bounds. All the benefices possessed by cardinals, or any of the
numerous officers in the Roman court ; those hela by persons who happened
to die at Rome, or within forty nules of that city, on their journey to or
from it ; such as became vacant by translatioUj with many others, were in-
cluded in the number of reserved benefices. Juhus II. and Leo X. stretcliiag
the matter to the utmost, often collated to benefices where the right of reser-
vation had not been declared, on pretence of having mentally reserved this
privilege to themselves. The right of reservation, nowever, even with this
extension, had certain limits, as it could be exercised only where the benefice

« F. Paul, Hist, of Eccles. Bcnef. p. 204, Gold. CoDBtit Imper i. p. 408.

142 VENALITY OF THE PAPAL COURT. [BOOK II,

was actually vacant ; and, therefore, in order to render the exertion of papal
power unbounded, expectative graces^ or mandates, nominating a person to
succeed to a benefice upon the first vacancy that should happen, were brought
into use. By means of these, Germany was filled vfith persons who were
servilely dependent on the court of Home, from which they had received
such reversionary grants ; princes were defrauded, in a great degree, of their
prerogatives; the rights of lay-patrons were pre-occupied, and rendered
almost entirely vam.^*

The manner in which these extraordinary powers were exercised, rendered
them still more odious and intolerable. The avarice and extortion of the
court of Rome were become excessive ahnost to a proverb. The practice of
selling benefices was so notorious, that no pains were taken to conceal or to
disguise it. Companies of merchants openly purchased the benefices of
different districts in Germany from the pope's ministers, and retailed them
at an advanced price.'" Pious men beheld with deep regret these simoniacal
transactions so unworthy thenunisters of a Christian church ; while politicians
complained of the loss sustained by the exportation of so much wealth in that
irreligious trafiic.

The sums, indeed, which the court of E-ome drew by its stated and legal
impositions from all the countries acknowledging its authority were so
considerable, that it is not strange that princes, as well as their subjects,
murmured at the smallest addition made to them by uimecessary or illicit
means. Every ecclesiastical person, upon his admission to Ms benefice, paid
amiats, or one year's produce of his living, to the pope; and as that tax was
exacted with great rigour, its amount was very great. To this must be added
the frequent demands made by the popes of free gifts from the clergy, together
with the extraordinary levies of tenths upon ecclesiastical benefices, on
pretence of expeditious against the Turks, seldom intended or carried into
execution ; and from the whole, the vast proportion of the revenues of the
church which flowed continually to Rome may be estimated.

Such were the dissolute manners, the exorbitant wealth, the enormous
power and privileges of the clergy before the reformation; such the op-
pressive rigour of that domination which the popes had established over
the Christian world ; and such the sentiments concerning them that prevailed
in Germany at the beginning of the sixteenth century. Nor has this sketch
been copied from the controversial writers of that age, who, in the heat of
disputation, may be suspected of having exaggerated the errors or of having
misrepresented the conduct, of that chui;ch which they laboured to over-
turn ; it is formed upon more authentic evidence, upon the memorials and re-
monstrances of the imperial diets, enumerating the grievances under which the
empire groaned, in order to obtain the redress of them. Dissatisfaction must
have arisen to a great height among the people, when these grave assemblies
expressed themselves with that degree of acrimony which abounds in their
remonstrances ; and if they demanded the abolition of these enormities with
so much vehemence, the people, we may be assm-ed, uttered their senti-
ments and desires in bolder and more virulent language.

To men thus j)repared for shaking ofl' the yoke, Luther addressed himself
with certainty of success. As they had long felt its weight, and had bonie it
with impatience, they listened with joy to the first oifer of procuring them
deliverance. Hence proceeded the fond and eager reception that his doc-
trines met with, and the rapidity with wliich they spread over all the provinces

*' Centum Gravam. § 21. Fascic. Ecr. expet. &c., p. 334. Gold. Const, Impcr. i. pp.
891, 404, 405. F. Paul, Hist, of Eccl. Bend". 167, pp. 199.
** Fascic. Rer. expet. i. p. 359.

I

I

BOOK II.] THE REVIVAL OP LEARNING. 143

of Gennanv. Even tlie impetuosity and fierceness of Luther's spirit, his
confidence in asserting his own opinions, and the arrogance as well as con-
tempt wherewith lie treated all who diifered from him, which, in ages of
arreater moderation and relinement, have been reckoned defects in tne character
of tiiat reformer, did not appear excessive to his contemporanes, whose minds
were strongly agitated by those interesting controversies which lie carried
on, andwlio had tiieinselves endured the rigour of panal tyraimy, and seen the
coniiptions in the church against which he exclaimed.

Nor were they offended at that gross scurrility with which his polemical
wi'itmgs arc filled, or at the low biiifoonery whicli he sometimes introduces
into his gravest discourses. No dispute was managed in those nide times
without a large portion of the former ; and the latter was common, even on
the most solemn occasions, and in treating the most sacred subjects. So
far were either of these from doing hurt to his cause, that invective and
ridicule had some effect as well as more laudable arguments, in exposing the
errors of popery, and in determining manlcind to abandon them.

Besides all these causes of Luther's ra])id progress, arising from the nature
of his entcq)rise, and the juncture at which he undertook it, he reaped ad-
vantage from some foreign and adventitious circumstances, the beneficial
influence of which none of his forerumiers in the same course had enjoyed.
Among these may be reckoned the invention of the art of printing, about
half a century before his time. By this fortunate discovery, the facility of
acquiring and of propagating knowledge was wonderfully increased, and
Luther's books, which must otherwise have made their way slowly ana with
uncertainty into distant countries, spread at once all over Europe. Nor were
they read only by the rich and the learned, who alone had access to books
before that invention ; they got into the hands of the people, who, upon this
appeal to them as judges, ventured to examine and to reject many doctrines
which they had formerly been required to believe, without being taught to
understand them.

The revival of learning at the same period was a circumstance extremely
friendly to the reformation. The study of the ancient Greek and Roman
authors,^ by enlightening the human mind with liberal and sound knowledge,
roused it irom that profound lethargy in which it had been sunk during
several centuries. Mankind seem at that period to have recovered the powers
of inquiring and of thinking for themselves, faculties of which they had long
lost the use ; and fond of the acquisition, they exercised ^ them with great
boldness upon all subjects. They were not now afraid of entering an un-
common path, or of embracing a new opinion. Novelty appears rather to
have been a recommendation of a doctrine; and instead of being startled
when the daring hand of Luther drew aside or tore the veil wliieh covered and
established errors, the genius of the age applauded and aided the attempt.
Luther, though a stranger to elegance in taste or composition, zealously
promoted the cultivation of ancient literature ; and sensible of its being
necessary to the right understanding of the Scriptures, he himself had ac-
quired considerable knowledge both in the Hebrew and Greek tongues.
Melancthon, and some other of his disciples, were eminent proficients in the
polite arts ; and as the same ignorant monks who opposed the introduction of
learning into Germanv, set themselves with equal fierceness against Luther's
opinions, and declared the good reception of the latter to be the effect of the
progress which the former had made, the cause of learning and of the refor-
mation came to be considered as closely connected with each other, and in
every country had the same friends and the same enemies. This enabled the
reformers to carry on the contest at first vnih. great superiority. Erudition,
industry, accuracy of sentiment, purity of composition, even wit and raUlery,

144 ERASMUS. [book H.

were almost wholly on their side, and triumphed with ease over illiterate
monks, whose rude arguments, expressed in a perplexed and barbarous
style, were found insufficient for the defence of a system, the errors of which
all the art and ingenuity of its later and more learned advocates have not been
able to palliate.

That bold spirit of inquiry, which the revival of learning excited in Europe,
was so favourable to the reformation, that Luther was aided in his progress,
and mankind were prepared to embrace, his doctrines, bv persons who did not
wish success to his undertaking. The greater part of the ingenious men who
applied to the study of ancient literature towards the close of the fifteenth
centuiy, and the beginning of the sixteenth, though they had no intention,
and perhaps no wish, to overturn the established system of religion, had dis-
covered the absurdity of many tenets and practices authorized by the church,
and perceived the futility of those arguments by which illiterate monks
endeavoured to defend them. Their contempt of these advocates for the
received errors, led them frequently to expose the opinions which they sup-
ported, and to ridicule their ignorance ^vith great freedom and severity.
By this, men were prepared for the more serious attacks made upon them
by Luther, and their reverence both for the doctrines and persons against
whom he inveighed was considerably abated. This was particularly the
case in Germany. When the first attempts were made to revive a taste for
ancient learning in that comitry, the ecclesiastics there, who were still more
ignorant than their brethren on the other side of the Alps, set t,hemselves to
oppose its progress with more active zeal; and the patrons of the new
studies, in return, attacked them with greater violence. _ In the writings
of Reuehlin, Hutten, and the other revivers of learning in Geimany, the
corruptions of the church of Rome are censured with an acrimony of style
little inferior to that of Luther himself."

From the same cause proceeded the frequent strictures of Erasmus upon
the errors of the church, as well as upon the ignorance and vices of the clergy.
His reputation and authority were so high in Europe at the beginning of
the sixteenth century, and his works were read with such universal admira-
tion, that the eft'ect of these deserves to be mentioned as one of the cir-
cumstances which contributed considerably towards Luther^s success. Eras-
mus, having been destined for the church, and tramed up in the knowledge
of ecclesiastical literature, aj)plied himself more to theological inquiries than
any of the revivers of learning in that age. His acute judgment and ex-
tensive erudition enabled him to discover many errors, both m the doctrine
and worship of the Komish church. Some of these he confuted with great
solidity of reasoning and force of eloquence. Others he treated as objects of
ridicule, and turned against them that irresistible torrent of popular and
satirical wit, of which he had the command. There was hardly any opinion or
practice of the Romish church which Luther endeavoured to reform, but
what had been previously animadverted upon by Erasmus, and had afforded
him subject either of censure or of raillery. Accordingly, when Luther first
began his attack upon the church, Erasmus seemed to applaud his conduct ;
he courted the friendship of several of his disciples and patrons, and con-
demned the behaviour and spirit of his adversaries.*^ He concurred openly
with him in inveighing against the school divines, as the teachers of a system
equally unedifying and obscure. He joined him in endeavouring to turn the

« Gerdesius, Hist. Evang. Eenov. vol. i. pp. 141, 157. Seckend. lib. I p. 103. Von
der Hardt, Hist. Literar. Reform, pars ii.
*« Seckend. lib. i. pp. 40, 96.

BOOK II.] HIS CONNEXION WITH LUTHER. li.j

attention of men to the study of the Holy Scriptures, as the only standard
of religious truth."

Various circumstances, however, prevented Erasmus from holding the
same course with Luther. The natural timidity of his temper ; his want
of that strength of mind which idone can prompt a man to assume the cha-
racter of a reformer •,*^ his excessive deference lor persons in high stations ;
liis dreatl of losing the pensions and other emoluments which their liberality
had conferred upon him ; his extreme love of peace, and hopes of refonnmg
abuses gradually, and by gentle methods, all concurred in determining him not
only to repress and to moderate the zeal with which he had once been
animated against the errors of the chui'ch,''^ but to assume the character
of a mediator between Luther and his opponents. But though Erasmus soon
bejran to censure Luther as too daring and impetuous, and was at last pre-
vailed upon to write against him, he must, nevertheless, be considered as his
forerunner and auxiliary in tliis war upon the chui'ch. He first scattered the
seeds, which Luther cherished and brought to maturity. His raillery and
oblique censures prepared the way for Luther's invectives and more airect
attacks. In this light Erasmus appeared to the zealous defenders of the
Romish church in lus own times.^'* Li this light he must be considered by
every person conversant in the history of that period.

Li this long enumeration of the circumstances which combined in favouring
the progress of Luther's opinions, or in weakening the resistance of his
adversaries, I have avqided entering into any discussion of the theological
doctrines of popery, and have not attempted to show how repugnant they
are to the spirit of Christianity, and how destitute of any wundation in
reason, in the word of God, or in the practice of the primitive church,
leaving those topics entirely to ecclesiastical historians, to whose province
they peculiarly belong. Eut when we add the effect of these religious con-
siderations to the influence of political causes, it is obvious that the united
operation of both on the human mind must have been sudden and irresistible.
Tliough, to Luther's contemporaries, who were too near, perhaps, to the
scene, or too deeply interested in it, to trace causes with accuracy, or to ex
amine them with coolness, the rapidity with which his opinions spread, ap-
peared to be so unaccountable, that some of them imputed it to a certain
uncommon and malignant position of the stars, which scattered the spirit
of giddiness and innovation over the world ;^^ it is evident that the success
of the reformation was the natural effect of many powerful causes prepared by
peculiar providence, and happily conspiring to that end. This attempt to
mvestigatc these causes, and to throw light on an event, so singular and im-

portantj will not, perhaps, be deemed an unnecessary digression. 1

return from it to the course of the history.

[1521.] The diet at Worms conducted its deliberations with that slow

*' Von (ler Hardt, Histor. Litei-ar. Reform, pars i. Gerdes. Hist. Evang. Eenov. i,
p. 147.

••* Erasmus himself is candid enough to acknowledge this : " Luther," says he, " has
given us many a wholesome doctrine, and many a good counsel. I wish he had not de-
feated the effect of them by intolerable faults. But if he had written everything in the
most unexceptionable manner, I had no inclination to die for the sake of truth. Every
man hath not the courage requisite to make a martyr ; and I am afraid, that if I were
put to the trial, I should imitate St. Peter." Epist. Erasmi, in Jortin's Life of Erasm.
vol. i. p. 273.

••» Jortin's Life of Erasmus, vol. i. 258.

^'^ Von der Hardt, Hist. Literar. Reform, pars i. p. 2.

" Jovii Historia, Lut. 1553, fol. p. 134.

L

14:6 a'HE DIET AT WOEIIS. [BOOK 11^

formality peculiar to such assemblies. Much time was spent in establishing
some regulations with regard to the internal police of the empire. The juris-
diction of the imperial chamber was confirmed, and the forms of its proceeding
rendered more fixed and regular. A council of regency was appointed to
assist Eerdinand in the goyerament of the empire during any occasional
absence of the emi)eror, which, from the extent of the emperor's dominions,
as well as the multiplicity of his affairs, was an event that might be frequently
expected.^- The state of religion was then taken into consideration. There
were not wanting some plausible reasons which might have induced Charles
to have declared himself the protector of Luther's cause, or at least to have
connived at its progress. If he had possessed no other dominions but those
which belonged to him in Germany, and no other crown besides the imperial,
he might have been disposed, perhaps, to favour a man who asserted so
boldly the privileges and immunities for which the empire had struggled so
long with the popes. But the vast and dangerous schemes which Francis I.
was forming against Charles made it necessary for him to regulate his conduct
by views more extensive than those which would have suited a German
prince ; and it being of the utmost importance to secure the pope's friend-
ship, tnis determined him to treat Luther with great severity, as the most
effectual method of soothing Leo into a concurrence with his measures. His
eagerness to accomplish this rendered him not unwilling to gratify the papal
legates in Germany, v/ho insisted that without any delay or formal dehbera-
tion, the diet ought to condemn a man whom the pope had already excom-
municated as an incorrigible heretic. Such an abrupt maimer of proceeding,
however, being deemed unprecedented and unjust by the members of the
diet, they made a point of Luther's appearing in person, and declaring
whether he adhered or not to those opinions which had drawn upon him
the censures of the church.^^ Not only the emperor, but all the princes
through whose territories he had to pass, granted him a safe-conduct ; and
Chai-les wrote to him at the same time, requiring his immediate attendance on
the diet, and renewing his promises of protection from any injury or violence.^*
Luther did not hesitate one moment about \delding obedience, and set out
for Worms, attended by the herald who had brought the emperor's letter and
safe-conduct. While on his journey, many of his friends, whom the fate of
Huss under similar circumstances, and notwithstanding the same security of
an imperial safe-conduct, filled with sohcitude, advised and entreated him not
to rush wantonly into the midst of danger. But Luther, superior to such
terrors, silenced them with this reply : "I am lawfully caUed," said he, " to
appear in that city, and thither will I go in the name of the Lord, though as
many devils as there are tiles on the houses were there combined against
me." "

The reception which he met with at Worms was such as he might have
reckoned a full reward of all his labours, _ if vanity and the love of applause
had been the priaciples by which he was influenced. Greater crowds assem-
bled to behold him than had appeared at the emperor's public entry ; his
apartments were daily filled with princes and personages of the highest rank,^*
and he was treated with all the respect paid to those who possess the power
of directiag the understandiag and sentiments of other men ; an homage,
more sincere, as well as more flattering, than any which pre-eminence in birth
or condition can command. At his appearance before the diet, he behaved

52 Pont. Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib. viii. ch. 11, p. 195. Pfeffel, Abrege ChronaJ;
p. 598.

*» P. Mart. Ep. 722. " Luth. Oper, ii. p. 411.

' ^uth. Oper, ii. p. 412. ^^ Seckend. p. 156. Luth. Oper. ii. p. 414.

DOOK II.] LrTIIER SEIZED AND CONFIXED AT WAETBUEG. 147

with great decency, and with equal firmness. He readily acknowledged an
excess of vehemence and acrimony in his controversial writings, but refused
to retract his opinions, unless he were convinced of their falsehood, or to
consent to their being tried by any other rule than the word of God. When
neither threats nor entreaties could prevail on liim to depart from this reso-
lution, some of the ecclesiastics proposed to imitate the example of the council
of Constance, and by punishing the author of this pestilent heresy, who was
now in their power, to deliver the church at once from such an evil. But
the members of the diet refusing to expose the German integrity to fresh
reproach by a second violation of public faith, and Charles being no less un-
willing to bring a stain upon the beginning of his administration by such an
ignommious action, Luther was permitted to depart in safety.*'^ A few days
after he left the city, a severe edict was pubHshed in the emperor^s name,
and by authority of the diet, depriving him, as an obstinate and excommuni-
cated criminal, of all the privileges which he enjoyed as a subject of the empire,
forbidding any prince to harbour or protect lum, and requiring all to concur
in seizing his person as soon as the term specified in his safe-conduct was
expired.^

But this rigorous decree had no considerable effect, the execution of it
being prevented, partly by the multiplicity of occupations which the com-
motions in Spain, together with the wars in Italy and the Low Countries,
created to the emperor; and partly by a prudent precaution emplwed by
tlie elector of Saxony, Luther's faithful and discerning patron. As Luther,
on his return from Worms, was passing near Altenstein in Thuringia, a
immber of horsemen in masks rushed suddenly out of a wood, where the
elector had appointed them to lie in wait for him, and, surrounding his com-
pany, carried him, after dismissing aU his attendants, to Wartbui-g, a strong
castle not far distant. There the elector ordered him to be supplied with
everything necessary or agreeable, but the place of his retreat was carefully
concealed, until the fury of the present storm against him began to abate,
upon a change in the political situation of Europe. In this solitude, where
he remained nine months, and which he frequently called his Patmos, after
the name of that island to which the ai)ostle John was banished, he exerted his
usual vigour and industry in defence of his doctrines, or in confutation of his
adversaries, publishing several treatises, which revived the spirit of his fol-
lowers, astonished to a great degree, and disheartened at the sudden disap-
pearance of their leader.

During his confinement his opinions continued to gain ground, acquiring
the ascendant in abnost every city in Saxony. At this time, the Augustinians
of Wittemberg, with the approbation of the university, and the connivance
of the elector, ventured upon the first step towards an alteration in the esta-
blished forms of public worship, by abolishing the celebration of private
masses, and by giving the cup as well as the bread to the laity, in aaminis-
tering the sacrament of the Lord's Supper.

"Whatever consolation the courage and success of his disciples, or the pro-
gress of his doctrines in his own country, afforded Luther in his retreat, he
there received information of two events which considerably damped liis joy,
as they seemed to lay insuperable obstacles in the way of propagating his

Srinciples, in the two most powerful kingdoms of Europe. One was, a solemn
ecree, condemning his opinions, published by the univeisity of Paris, the
most ancient, and, at that time, the most respectable of the learned societies
in Europe. The other was the answer written to his book concerning the

I

" F. Paul, Hist, of Counc. p. 13. Seckend. p. 160.
" Gold. Const, Imperial, ii. p. 401.
l2

148 HENEY THE EIGHTH OPPOSES LTJTHEE's OPINIONS. [BOOK II.

Babylonish captivity by Henry VIII. of England. That monarch, having
been educated under the eve of a suspicious father, who, in order to prevent
his attending to business, kept him occupied in the study of literature, still
retained a greater love of learning, and stronger habits of apphcation to it,
than are common among princes of so active a disposition and such violent
passions. Being ambitious of acquiring glory of every kind, as well as zealously
attached to the Romish church, and highly exasperated against Luther, who
had treated Thomas Aquinas, his favourite author, with great contempt,
Henry did not think it enough to exert his royal authority in opposing tlie
opiiiions of the reformer, but resolved likewise to combat them with scho-
lastic weapons. With this view he published his treatise on the seven sacra-
ments, which, though forgotten at present, as books of controversy always
are, M^hen the occasion that produced them is past, is not destitute of po-
lemical ingenuity and acuteness, and was represented by the flattery of his
courtiers to be a work of such wonderful science and learning as exalted him
no less above other authors in merit than he was distinguished among them
hj his rank. The pope, to whom it was presented \yith the greatest formality
in full consistory, spoke of it in such terms, as if it had been dictated by
immediate inspiration j and, as a testimony of the gratitude of the church for
his extraordinary zeal, conferred on him_ the title of Defender of the Faith, an
appellation which Henry soon forfeited in the opinion of those fi-om whom he
derived it, and which is still retained by his successors, though the avowed
enemy of those opinions, by contending for which he merited that honourable
distinction. Luther, who was not overawed, either by the authority of the
university or the dignity of the monarch, soon published lus animadversions
on both, in a style no less vehement and severe than he would have used in
confuting his meanest antagonist. This indecent boldness, instead of shocking
his contemporaries, was considered by them as a new proof of his undaunted
spirit. A controversy managed by disputants so illustrious drew universal
attention ; and such was the contagion of the spirit of innovation, diffused
through Europe in that age, and so powerful the evidence which accompanied
the doctrines of the refopners on their first publication, that, in spite both
of the civil and ecclesiastical powers combined against them, they daily gained
converts both in France and m England. _

How desirous soever the emperor might be to put a stop to Luther's
progress, he was often obliged, during the diet at Worms, to turn his thoughts
to matters still more interesting, and which demanded more immediate at-
tention. A war was ready to break out between him and the Erench king
in NavaiTC, in the Low Countries, and in Italy ; and it required either great
address to avert the danger, or timely and wise precautions to resist it. Every
circumstance, at that juncture, inclined Charles to prefer the former measure.
Spain was torn with intestine commotions. In Italy, he had not hitherto
secured the assistance of any one ally. ^ In the Low Countries, his subjects
trembled at the thoughts of a rupture with France, the fatal effects of which
on their coinmerce they had often experienced. Erom these considerations,
as well as from the solicitude of Chievres, during his whole administration, to
maintain peace between the two monarchs, proceeded the emperor's back-
wardness to commence hostilities. But Francis and his ministers did not
breathe the same pacific spuit. He easUy foresaw that concord could not
long subsist, where interest, emiilation, and ambition, conspii'cd to dissolve
it ; and he possessed several advantages wliich flattered him with the hopes
of surprising his rival, and of overpowering him, before he could put him-
self in a posture of defence. The French king's dominions, from their com-
pact situation, from their subjection to the roval authority, from the genius
of the people, fond of war, and attached to their sovereign by every tie of

BOOK II.] LEO's PROJFX'Ta. 149

duty and affection, were more capable of a great or sudden effort, than the
laii-vr but disunited territories of tiie emperor, in one part of which the
people; were in aims against liis niiuisters, and in all lus prerogative was
mort.' limited than that of his rival.
The only princes, in whose power it was to have kept down, or to have

'^-♦' ' '"-il this liame on its first appearance, either neglected to exert

. or were active in kindling and spreading it. Henry VIII., though
I I o assume the name of mediator, and both parties made frequent
uppeuis) to him, had laid aside the impartiality which suited that character.
\Volsev, by his artifices, had estranged himself so entirely from the French
king, that he secretly fomented the oiscord which he ought to have composed,
and v.-aitcd only for some decent pretext to join his arms to those of the em-
peror.^"

Leo's endeavours to excite discord between the emperor and Francis were
more avowed, and had greater influence. Not only his duty, as the common
father of Christendom, but his interest as an Italian potentate, called upon
the pope to act as the guardian of the public tranquillity, and to avoid any
measure that might overturn the system, which, after much bloodshed, ana
many negotiations, was now established in Italy. Accordingly Leo, v.-ho in-
stantly discerned the propriety of this conduct, had formed a scheme, upon
Charles's promotion to the imperial dignity, of rendering himself the umpire
between the rivals, by soothmg them alternately, while he entered into no
close confederacy with either ; and a pontiff less ambitious and enterprising
might have saved Europe from many calamities by adhering to this plan.
JBut this high-spirited prelate, wlio was still in the prime of life, longed
passionately to distinguish his pontificate by some splendid action. He was
unpatient to wash away the infamy of having lost Panna and Placentia, the
acquisition of which re'fLect€d so much lustre on the administration of his pre-
decessor, Julius. He beheld, with the indignation natural to Italians in that
•ige, the dorauiion vrhich the transalpine, or as they, in imitation of the
iioman arrogance, denominated tliem, the barbarous nations, had attained in
Italy. He flattered himself that, after assisting the one monarch to strip the
otlier of his possessions in that country, he mi^ht find means of diiving out
the victor in his turn, and acquire the glory of restciing Italy to the liberty
and happiness which it had enjoyed before the invasion of Charles VIII..
when every state was governed by its native princes or its own laws, and
acquainted with a foreign yoke. Extravagant and chimerical as this pro-
t may seem, it was the favouiite object of abnost every Italian, eminent for
,nius or enterprise, dui'ing great part of the sLxteenth centui'y. They vaudy
>ped that by superior skill In the artifices and refinements of negotiation,
ey should be aole to baffle the efibrts of nations less polished indeed than
ernseives, but much more powerfid and warlike. So aUui'ing was the
»ospect of this to Leo, that, notwithstanding the gentleness of his disposi-
on, and his fondness for the pleasures of a refineof and luxui-ioiis ease, he
hastened to distui-b the peace of Europe, and to plunge himself into a dan-
rous war, with an impetuosity scarcely inferior to that of the tui-bulent and
irtial Julius.'**

It was in Leo's power, however, to dioose which of the monarchs he would
:e for his confederate agahist the other. Both of them courted his friend-
p ; he wavered for some time between them, and at first concluded an
!anee with Francis. The object of this treaty was the conquest of Naples,
which the confederates agreed to divide between them. The pope, it is pro-

I

fi» Herbert. Fiddes's Life of Wolsey, p. 258.
«• Gu?c. lib. xiv. p. 173

150 DEATH or CHIEVHES. [BOOK Tl.

bable, flattered himself that the brisk and active spirit of Erancis, secondea
by the same qualities in his subjects, would get the start of .the slow and
wary counsels of the emperor, and that they might overrun with ease this
detached portion of his dominions, ill provided for defence, and always the
prey of every invader. But whether the French king, by discovering too
openly his suspicion of Leo's sincerity, disappointed these hopes ; whether
the _ treaty was only an artifice of the pope's to cover the more serious nego-
tiations which he was carrying on with Charles ; whether he was enticed by
the prospect of reaping greater advantages from a union with that prince ;
or whether he was soothed by the zeal which Charles had manifested for the
honour of the church in condemning Luther ; certain it is that he soon de-
serted his new ally, and made overtures of friendship, though with great
secrecy, to the emperor.^' Don John Manuel, the same man who had oeen
the favourite of Philip, and whose address had disconcerted all Ferdinand's
schemes, having been delivered, upon the death of that monarch, from the
prison to which he had been confined, was now the imperial ambassador at
llome, and fully capable of improving this favourable disposition in the pope
to his master's advantage.^^ To him the conduct of this negotiation was
entirely committed; and being carefully concealed from Chievres, whose
aversion to a war with France would have prompted him to retard or to
defeat it, an alliance between the pope and emperor was quickly concluded.^*
The chief articles in this treaty, which proved the foundation of Charles's
grandeur in Italy, were, that the pope and emperor should join their forces
to expel the French out of the Milanese, the possession of which should be
granted to Francis Sforza, a son of Ludovico the Moor, who had resided at
Trent smce the time that his brother Maximilian had been dispossessed of liis
dominions by the French king ; that Parma and Placentia should be restored
to the church ; that the emperor should assist the pope in conquering Fer-
rara : that the amiual tribute paid by the kingdom of Naples to the holy see
should be increased; that the emperor should take the family of Medici
under his protection ; that he should grant to the cardinal of that name a
pension of ten thousand ducats upon the archbishopric of Toledo ; and should
settle lands in the kingdom of Naples to the same value upon Alexander,
the natural son of Lorenzo de Medici.

The transacting an affair of sucli moment without his participation, appeared
to Chievres so decisive a proof of his having lost the ascendant which he had
hitherto maintained over the mind of his pupil, that his chagrin on this ac-
count, added to the melancholy with which he was overwhelmed on taking a
view of the many and unavoidable calamities attending a war against France,
is said to have shortened his days.^* "But though this, perhaps, may be only
the conjecture of historians, fond of attributing evervthing that befalls illus-
trious personages to extraordinary causes, and ot ascribing even their diseases
and death to the effect of political passions which are more apt to disturb
the enjoyment than to abridge the period of life, it is certain that his death,
at this critical juncture, extinguished all hopes of avoiding a rupture with
France.^* This event, too, delivered Charles from a minister, to whose
authority he had been accustomed from his infancy to submit with such im-
ilicit deference, as checked and depressed his genius, and retained him in a

61 Guic. lib. xiv. p. 175. Mem. de Bellay, Par. 1573, p. 24.
•2 Jovii Vita Leonis, lib. iv. p. 89.

•^ Guic. lib. xiv. 181. Mem. de Bellay, p. 24. Du Mont, Corps Diplom. torn. iv.
Buppi. p. 96.

«* Be:carii Comment, de Reb. Gallic. 483.

"^^ i" Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib. viij. ch. 11, p 197.

BOOK II.] HOSTILITIES IN NAVABRB. 151

state of pupilage, unbecoming his years as weU as his rank, but this restraint
being removed, tiie native po^vers of his mind were permitted to unfold them-
selves, and lie began to display such great talents both in council and in action,
as exceeded the iiopes of his contemporaries,^® and command the admiration
of posterity.

While the pope and emperor \vere preparing in consequence of their secret
alliance to attack ^Milan, hostilities commenced in another quarter. The
children of John d'Albret, king of Navarre, liaving often demanded the resti-
tution of their hereditary dominions in terms of the treaty of Noyon, and
Charles having as often eluded their requests upon very frivolous pretexts,
Trancis thought himself authorized by that treaty to assist the exiled family.
The juncture appeared extremely favourable for such an enterprise. Charles
was at a distance from that part of his dominions ; the troops usuaDy stationed
there had been called away to quell the commotions in Spain ; the Spanish
malecontents wannly solicited him to invade Navarre,®^ in which a considerable
faction was ready to declare for the descendants of their ancient monarchs.
But in order to avoid, as much as possible, giving offence to the emperor, or
king of England, Francis directed forces to be levied and the war to be carried
on, not in liis own name, but in that of Henry d'Albret. The conduct of
these troops was committed to Andrew de Foix, de I'Esparre, a young noble-
man, whom his near alliance to the unfortunate king, whose battles he was to
fight, and, what was still more powertul, the interest of his sister, Madame de
Chateaubriand, Francis's favourite mistress, recommended to that important
trust, for which he had neither talents nor experience. But as there was no
army in the field to oppose him, he became master, in a few days, of the whole
kingdom of Navarre, without meeting with any obstmction but from the
citadel of Pampeluna. The additional works to this fortress, begun by
Ximenes, were still unfinished ; nor would its slight resistance have deseiTcd
notice, if Jgnatio Loyola, a Biscayan gentleman, had not been dangerously
wounaed in its defence. Duriag the progress of a lingering cure, Loyola
happened to have no other amusement than what he found in reading the lives
of the saints : the effect of this on his mind, naturally enthusiastic, but ambi-
tious and daring, was to inspire him with such a desire of emulating the glory
of these fabulous worthies of the Roman chui'ch, as led him into the wSdest
and most extravagant adventures, which terminated at last in instituting the
society of Jesuits, the most political and best regulated of all the monastic
orders, and from which mankind have derived more advantages and received
greater injury than from any other of those religious fraternities.

If, upon the reduction of Pampeluna, L'Esparre had been satisfied with
taking proper precautions for securing his conquest, the kingdom of Navarre
might still have remained annexed to the crown of France, in reality, as well
as in title. But, pushed on by youthful ardour, and encouraged by Francis,
who was too apt to be dazzled with success, he ventured to pass the confines
of Navan*e, and to lay sie^e to Lo^rogno, a small town in Castile, This roused
the Castilians, who had Mtherto heheld the rapid progress of his arms with
great unconcern, and the dissensions in that kingdom (of which a full account
shall be given) being almost composed, both parties exerted themselves with
emulation in defence of their country ; the one that it might efface the memory
of past misconduct by its present zeal ; the other, that it might add to the
merit of having subdued the emperor's rebellious subjects, that of repulsing
his foreign enemies. The sudden advance of their troops, together with the
gallant defence made by the inhabitants of Logrogno, obliged the French
general to abandon his rash enterprise. The Spanish army, which increased

«« P. Mart. Ep, 735. « Ibid. 721.

152 SIEGE OF MEZIERES. [BOOK II.

every day, harassing him duiing his retreat, he, instead of taking shelter under
the cannon of Panipeluna, or waiting the arriral of some troops which were
marching to join him, attacked tlie Spaniards, tliough far superior to iiini in
number, with great impetuosity, but with so little conduct, that his forces
were totally routed, he himself, together with his principal officers, was taken
prisoner, and Spain recovered possession of NavaiTC in still shorter time
than the Prencli had spent in the conquest of it.'^*

Vyiiile Erancis endeavoured to justify his invasion of Navarre, by carrying it
on in the name of Henry d'Albret, he had recourse to an artifice much of the
same kind, in attacking another part of the emperor's territories. Kobert de
la Mark, lord of the small but independent teiTitory of Bouillon, situated on
the frontiers of Luxembourg and Champagne, having abandoned Charles's
service on account of an encroachment wOiich the Aulic council had made on
his jurisdiction, and having thrown hi:j:self upon France for protection, was
easily persuaded, in the heat of his resentment, to send a herald to Woims,
and lo declare war against the emperor in form. Such extravagant insolence
in a petty prince surprised Charles, and appeared to him a certain proof of his
having received promises of powerful support from the French king. The
justness of this conclusion soon became evident. Robert entered the duchy of
Luxembourg with troops levied in France, by the king's connivance, though
seemingly in contradiction to his orders, and, after ravaging the open country,
laid siege to Vireton. Of this Charles complained loudly, as a direct viola-
tion of the peace subsisting between the two crovais, and summoned
Henry VIII., in terms of the treaty concluded at London in the year one
thousand five hundred and eighteen, to turn his arms against Francis as the
first aggressor. Francis pretended that he was not answerable for Robert's
conduct, whose army fought under his own standards and in his o^\'n quarrel ;
and affirmed that, contrary to an express prohibition, he had seduced some
subjects of France into his service ; but Henry paid so little regard to this
evasion, that tlie French king, rather than irritate a prince whom he still hoped
to gain, counnanded De la Mark to disband his troops.""

The emperor, meanwhile, was assembling an army to chastise Robert's
insolence. Twenty thousand men, under the count of Nassau, invaded his
little territories, and in a few days became masters of every place in them
but Sedan. After making him feel so sensibly the weight of his master's in-
dignation, Nassau advanced towards the frontiers of France ; and Charles,
knowing that he might presume so far on Henry's partiality in his favour as
not to be overawed by tlie same fears which had restrained Francis, ordered
his general to beseige Mouson. The cowardice of tlie garrison having
obliged the governor to surrender almost v/ithout resistance, Nassau invested
Mezieres, a place at th^t time of no. considerable strength, but so advan-
tageously situated, that, by getting possession of it, the imperial army might
have penetrated into the heart of Champagne, in which there was hardly any
other town capable of obstructing its progress. Happily for France, its
monarch, sensible of the importance of this fortress, and of the danger to
which it was exposed, committed the defence of it to the chevalier Bayard,
distinguished among his contemporaries by the appellation of T/ie knight
tcithout fear and without reproach.'^ This man, whose prowess in combat,
whose punctilious honour and formal gallantry, bear a nearer resemblance,
than anything recorded in history, to the character ascribed to the heroes
of chivalry, possessed all the talents which form a great general. These he

68 M^m. de Bellay, p. 21. P. Mart. Ep. 726.

^^ Mem. de Bellay, p. 22, &c. Mem. de Fleuranges, p. 335, &c.

"0 OEuvres de Brauiome, torn. vi. p. 114.

BOOK II.] LEAGUE AGAINST I'llANCE. 168

had many occasions of exerting in the defence of Mezieres; partlv by liis

••:tlour, partly by his conduct, he protracted the siege to a great length, and in

le end obliged* the imperialit^ts to rukse it, with disgrace and loss/' Irancis,

the head of a numerous army, soon retook Mouson, and entering the Low

unt ries, made several conquests of small importance. In the neighbourhood

Valenciennes, thron":h an excess of caution, an error with which he cannot

• ( t'teu charged, he lost an opportunity of cutting off the whole ini]Derial

Miy;'- and, what was still more imfortunate, he disgusted Charles duke of

^^^urbon, high constable of J^rance, by giving the command of the van to the

^^^■ike d'Alcnyon, though this post of honour belonged to Bourbon, as a prero-

^^Kive of his ottice.

^^■During these operations in the field, a congress was held at Calais, under
^^^ mediation of .^enry YIII., in order to bring ail differences to an amicable
issue ; and if the intention of the mediator had corresponded in any degree to
his professions, it could hardly have failed of producing some good effect.
But Henry committed the sole management of the negotiation, with unlimited
powers, to Wolsey ; and this choice alone was sufficient to have rendered it
abortive. That prelate, bent on attaining the papal eroNvn, the great object
of his ambition, and ready to sacrifice everything in order to gain the em-
peror's interest, was so little able to conceal his partiality, that, if Francis
had not been well acquainted with his haughty and vindictive temper, he
would ii:ive declined his mediation. Much time was spent in inquiiing who
had begun hostilities, which Wolsey aftccted to represent as the principal
point ; and by throwing the blame of that on Francis, he hoped to justify, by
the treaty of London, any alliance into which his master sliould enter M'ith
Charles. The conditio:;? on which hostilities might be terminated came next
to be considered; but, with regard to these, the emperor's proposals were
such as discovered either that he was utterly averse to peace, or that he knew
Wolsey woidd approve of whatever tenns should be offered in his name. He
demanded the restitution of the duchy of Burgundy, a province the possession
of v.-hieh would have given him access into the heart of France, and required
to be released from the homage due to the crown of France for the counties
of Flanders and Artois, which none of his ancestors had ever refused, and
which he had bound himself by the treaty of Noyon to renew. These terms,
to wliich a high-spirited prince would scarcely have listened, after the disasters
of an unfortunate war, Francis rejected with great disdain; and Charles,
showing no inclination to comply with the more equal and moderate proposi-
tions of the French monarch, that he should restore Navarre to its lawful
prince, and withdraw his troops from the siege of Tournay, the congress
broke up without any other effect than that which attends unsuccessful nego-
tiations, the exasperating of the parties whom it was intended to reconcile."

During the continuance of the congress, Wolsey, on pretence that the
emperor himseK would be more williug to make reasonable concessions than
his ministers, made an excursion to Bruges to meet that monarch. He was
received by Charles, who knew his vanity, with as much respect and magni-
ficence as if he had been king of England. But instead of advancing the
treaty of peace by this inteiTicw, Wolsey, in his master's name, concluded a
league with the emperor against Francis; in which it was stipulated, that
Charles should invade France on the side of Spain, and Henry in Pieardy,
each with an army of forty thousand men ; and that, in order to strengthen
their union, Charles should esi^ouse the princess Mary, Henry's only chila, and
the apparent heir of his dominions.'* Henry produced no oetter reasons for

I Mem. de Bellay, p. 25, &c. " p. Mart. Ep. 747. Mdm. de Belky, p. 86.

" P. Mart. p:p. 739. Herbert. « Rymcr, Feeder, xiii. Herbert.

164 TRANCIS' ITALIAN ADMINISTRATION. [BOOK li,

this measure, equally unjust and impolitic, than the article in the treaty of
London, by which he pretended that he was bound to take arms against the
French king- as the first aggressor, and the injury which he alleged Prancis
had done him, in permitting the duke of Albany, the head of a faction in Scot-
land which opposed the interest of England, to retam into that kingdom. He
was influenced, however, by other considerations. The advantages which
accrued to his subjects from maintaining an exact neutrality, or the honour
that resulted to himself from acting as the arbiter between the contending
princes, appeared to his youthful imagination so inconsiderable, when compared
with the glory which mi^ht be reaped from leading armies or conquering pro-
vinces, that he determmed to remain^ no longer in a state of inactivity.
Having once taken this resolution, liis inducements to prefer an alliance with
Charles were obvious. _ He had no claim upon any part of that prince's
dominions, most of which were so situated, that he could not attack them
without great difficulty and disadvantage ; whereas several maritime provinces
of France had been long in the hands of the English monarchs, whose pretcL-
sions even to the crown of that kingdom were not as yet altogether forgotten ;
and the possession of Calais not only gave him easy access into some of those
provinces, but, in case of any disaster, afforded him a secure retreat. While
Charles attacked France on one frontier, Henry flattered himself that he
should find little resistance on the other, and that the glory of reannexing to
the crown of England the ancient inheritance of its monarchs on the continent
was reserved for his reign. Wolsey artfully encouraged these vain hopes, which
led his master into such measures as were most subservient to his own secret
schemes ; and the English, whose hereditary animosity against the French was
apt to rekindle on every occasion, did not disapprove of the martial spirit of
their sovereign.

Meanwhile the league between the pope and the emperor produced great
effects in Italy, and rendered Lombardy the chief theatre of war. There was,
at that time, such contrariety between the character of the French and the
Italians, that the latter submitted to the government of the former with

ffcater impatience than they expressed under the dominion of other foreigners,
he phlegm of the Germans, and gravity of the Spaniards, suited their jealous
temper and ceremonious manners better than the French gaiety, too prone
to gallantry, and too little attentive to decorum. Louis XH.^ however, by the
equity and gentleness of his administration, and by grantmg the Milanese
more extensive privileges than those they had enjoyed under their native
princes, had overcome, in a great measure, their prejudices, and reconciled
them to the French government. Francis, on recovering that duchy, did not
imitate the example of his predecessor. Though too generous himself to
oppress his people, his boundless confidence in Ms favourites, and his negli-
gence in examining into the conduct of those whom he entrusted with power,
emboldened them to venture upon any acts of oppression. The government
of Milan was committed by him to Odet de Foix, mareschal de Lautrec,
another brother of Madame de Chateaubriand, an officer of great experience
and reputation, but haughty, imperious, rapacious, and incapable either of
listening to advice, or of bearing contradiction. His insolence and exactions
totally alienated the affections of the Milanese from France, drove many of the
considerable citizens into banishment, and forced others to retire for their own
safety. Among the last was Jerome Morone, vice-chancellor of Milan, a man
whose genius for intrigue and enterprise distinguished him in an age and
country where violent factions, as well as frequent revolutions, affording great
scope for such talents, produced or called them forth in great abundance.
He repaired to Francis Sforza, whose brother Maximilian he had betrayed ;
and, suspecting the pope's intention of attacking the Milanese, although his

m

BOOK II.l WAH IN THE MILANESE. 155

treaty writh the emperor was not yet made public, he proposed to Leo. in the
name of Sforza, a scheme for surprising several places m tliat duchy by means
of the exiles, who, from hatred to the Frcuch, and from attachment to their
former masters, were ready for any desperate enterprise. Leo not orJy en-
couraged the attempt, but advanced a considerable sum towards the execution
of it ; and when, throudi unforeseen accidents, it failed of success in every
art, he allowed the exiles, who had assembled in a body, to retire to Reggio,
•hieh belonged at that time to the church. The mareschal de Foix, who
commanded at Milan in the absence of his brother Lautree, who was ^!ien in
France, tempted with the hopes of catching at once, as in a snare, all the
avowed enemies of his master's government in that countrj-, ventured to march
into the ecclesiastical territories, and to invest Reggio. But the vigilance
and good conduct of Guiceiardini, the historian, governor of that place, obliged
the French general to abandon the enterprise with dismi-aee. '^ Leo, on re-
ceiving this intelligence, with which he was highly pleased, as it furnished him
with a decent pretence for a rupture with France, immediately assembled
the consistory of cardmals. After complaining bitterly of the hostile inten-
tions of the French king, and magnifying the emperor's zeal for the church, of
which he had given a recent proof by Ms proceedings against Luther, he de-
clared that he was constrained in self-defence, and as the only expedient for
the security of the ecclesiastical state, to join his arms to those of that prince.
For this purpose, he now pretended to conclude a treaty with Don John
Manuel, although it had really been signed some months before this time ; and
he publicly excommunicated De Foix, as an impious invader of St. Peter's
patrimony.

Leo had already begun preparations for war by taking into pay a consider-
able body of Swiss ; but the imperial troops advanced so slowly from Naples
and Germany, that it was the middle of autumn before the army took the field
under the command of Prosper Colonna, the most eminent of the ItaHan
generals, whose extreme caution, the effect of long experience in the art of war,
was opposed with great propriety to the impetuosity of the French. In the
meantime, De Foix despatched courier after courier to inform the kiug of the
danger which was approaching. Francis, whose forces were either employed
ia the Low Countries, or assembling on the frontiers of Spain, and who did
not expect so sudden an attack in that quarter, sent ambassadors to his allies
the Swiss, to procure from them the immediate levy of an additional body of
troops; and commanded Lautree to repair forthwith to his government.
That general, who was well acquainted with the great neglect of economy in
the administration of the king's finances, and who knew how much the troops
in the Milanese had^aJready suffered from the want of their pay, refused to set
out, unless the sum of three hundred thousand crowns was immediately put
into his hands. But the king, Louise of Savoy, his mother, Semblaucy, the
superintendant of finances, having promised even with an oath, that on his
arrival at ^lilan he should find remittances for the sum which he demanded,
upon the faith of this he departed. Unhappily for France, Louise, a woman
deceitful, vindictive, rapacious, and capable of saerificiiig anything to the
gratification of her passions, but who had acquired an absolute ascendant over
her son by her maternal tenderness, her ear.e of his education, and her great
abilities, was resolved not to perform this promise. Lautree having incurred
her displeasure by his haughtiness in negleetmg to pay court to her, and by
the freedom with which he had talked concermng some of her adventm-es in
gallantry, she, in order to deprive him of the honour which he might have
gained by a successful defence of the Milanese, seized the three nundreu

» Guic. lib. xiv. 183. Mem. de Bellay, p. 38, &&

156 CAPTURE OF MILO. [BOOK U.

thousand crowns destined for that service, and detained them for lier own
use.

Lautrec, notwithstanding this cruel disai)pointment, found means to as-
semble a considerable army, though far inferior in number to that of the
confederates; He adopted the plan of defence most suital}le to his situation,
avoiding a pitched battle with the greatest care, while he harassed the enemy
continually with his light troops, beat up their quarters, intercepted their con-
voys, and covered or relieved every place which they attempted to attack.
By this prudent conduct, he not onlv retarded their progress, out would have
soon wearied out the pope, w^ho had hitherto defrayed almost tlie whole ex-
pense of the war, as the emperor, whose revenues in Spain were dissipated
during the commotions in that country, and who was ODliged to support_ a
numerous army in the Netherlands, could not make any considerable remit-
tances into Italy. But an unforeseen accident disconcerted all his measures,
and occasioned a fatal reverse in the Erench affairs. A body of twelve thou-
sand Swiss served in Lautrec's army under the banners of the repubHc, with
which Erance was in alliance. In consequence of a law no less political than
humane, established among the cantons, their troops were never liired out
by pul)iic authority to both the contending parties iii any war. This law,
however, the love of gain had sometimes eluded, and private persons had been
allowed to enlist in what service they pleased, though not under the public
bamiers, but under those of their particlilar officers. The'cardinal of Sion,
who still preserved his interest among his countrjinen, and his enmity to
France, liaving prevailed on them to connive at a levy of this kind, twelve
thousand Swiss, instigated by him, joined the army of the _ confederates.
But the leaders in the cantons, when they saw so many of their countrymen
marching under the hostile standards, and ready to turn their arms against
each other, became so sensible of the infamy to w^hich they would be exposed,
by permitting tliis, as well as the loss they might suffer, that they despatched
couriers, commandmg their people to leave both armies, and to return forth,
with into their own country. The cardinal of Sion, however, had the address,
by corrupting the messengers appointed to carry this order, to prevent it from
being delivered to the Sv/iss in the service of the confederates ; but be hig inti-
mated in due form to those in the Erench army, they, fatigued with the length
of the campaign, and murmuring for want of pay, instantly yielded obedience,
in spite of Lautrec's remonstrances and entreaties.

After the desertion of a body which formed the strength of his army,
Lautrec durst no longer face the confederates. He retired towards Milan,
encamped on the banks of the Adda, and placed his chief hopes of safety in
preventing the enemy from passing that river ; an expedient for defending
a country so precarious, that there are few instances of its being employed
with success against any general of experience or abilities. Accordingly
Colonna, notwithstanding Lautrec's vigilance and activity, passed the Adda
with little loss, and obliged him to shut himself up within the walls of Milan,
which the confederates were preparing to besiege, when an unknown person,
who never afterwards appeared eitlier to boast of this service, or to claim a
reward for it, came from the city, and acquainted Morone that if the army
would advance that night, the GhibeUme or imperial faction would put them
in possession of one of the gates. Colonna, though no friend to rash enter-
prises, allowed the marquis de Pescara to advance with the Spanish infantry,
and he himself followed with the rest of his troops. About the begiiming of
night, Pescara, arriving at the Roman gate in the suburbs, surprised the
soldiers whom he found there ; those posted in the fortifications adjoining to
ifc, immediately fled ; the marquis seizing the works which they abandoned,
and pushing forward incessantly, though with no less caution than vigour, be-

IH^v

BOOK IlJ DEATU OF LEO— ADRIAN ELECTED POPE. 157

came master of the city with little bloodshed, and almost without resistance •
the victors being as much astonished as the vanquished at the facility ana
success of the attempt. Lautrec retired precipitately towards the Venetian
territories with tlie remains of his shattered army ; tlie cities of the Milanese,
following the fate of the capital, surrendered to the confederates; Parma and
Plaeentia were united to the ecclesiastical state, and of all their conrjuests
in Lombardy only the town of Cremona, the castle of Milan, and a few incon-
siderable forts, remained in the hands of the French.'®

Leo received the accounts of this rapid succession of prosperous events
with such transports of joy, as brought on (if v/e may believe the Trench his-
torians) a sUght fever, whicli, being neglected, occasioned his death on the
second of December, while he was still of a vigorous age and at the height of
his glory. By this unexpected accident, the spirit of the confederacy was
broken, and its operation suspended. The cardinals of Sion and Medici left
the army, that they might be present in the conclave ; the Swiss were recalled
by their superiors ; some other mercenaries were disbanded for want of pay ;
and only the Spaniards, and a few Germans in the emperor's service, re-
mained to defend the Milanese. But Lautrec, destitute both of men and
of money, was unable to improve this favourable opportunity in the manner
which he would have wished. [1522. ] The vigUauce of Morone, and the good
conduct of Colonna, disappointed his feeble attempts on the Milanese. Guicci-
archni, by his address and valour, repulsed a bolder and more dangerous
attack which he made on Parma."^

Great discord prevailed in the conclave, which followed upon Leo's death,
and all tlie arts natural to men grown old in intrigue, when contending for tlie
highest prize an ecclesiastic can obtain, were practised. Wolsey's name, not-
withstanding all the emperor's raa^nifieent promises to favour his preten-
sions, of which that prelate did not fail to remind him, was hardly mentioned
in the conclave. Julio, cardinal de Medici, Leo's nephew, who was more
eminent than any other member of the sacred college for his abilities, his
wealth, and his experience in transacting great affairs, had already secui-ed
fifteen voices, a number sufficient, according to the fonns of the conclave,
to exclude any other candidate, though not to carry his own election. As
he was still in the prime of life, all the aged cardinals combined against him,
without being united in favour of any other person. While these factions
were endeavourmg to gain, to corrupt, or to weary out each other, Medici and
his adherents voted one morning at the scrutiny, which, according to the
form, was made every day, for cardinal Adrian of Utrecht, who at that time
governed Spain in the emperor's name. This they did merely to protract
time. But the adverse party instantly closing with them, to then' own amaze-
ment and that of all Europe, a stranger to Italy, unknown to the persons who
gave their suffrages in liis favour, and unaeciiiainted with the manners of the
people, or the interest of the state, the government of which they eonfeiTcd
upon him, was unanimously raised to the papal throne, at a juncture so
dclicdte and critical, as would have demanded all the sagacity and experience of
one of the most able prelates in the sacred college. The cardinals themselves,
unable to give a reason for this strange choice, on account of which, as they
marched in procession from the conclave, they were loaded with insults and
curses by the lioman people, ascribed it to an immediate impulse of the Holy
Ghost. It may be imputed with greater certainty to the influence of Don
Jolrn Manuel, the imperial ambassador, who by his address and intrigues faci-
as Guic. lib. xiv. pp. 190, &c. il^in. de Belhiy, pp. 42, &c. Galeacii Capella de Eeb.
gest. pro restitut. Fran. Sfortise Comment, ap. Scordium, vol. ii. pp. 180, &c.
" Guic lib. siv. p. 214.

158 THE fei:nch defeated in ITALY. [book n.

litated the election of a person devoted to his master's service, from gratitude-
jfrom interest, and from inclination/*

Beside the influence which Charles acquired by Adrian's promotion, it
threw great lustre on his administration. To bestow on his preceptor such a
noble recompense, and to place on the papal throne one whom he had raised
from obscurity, were acts of uncommon magnificence and power, Francis
observed^ with the sensibility of a rival, the pre-eminence which the emperor
was gaimng, and resolved to exert himself with fresh vigour, in order to wrest
from hiin his late conquests in Italy. The Swiss, that they might make some
reparation to the Prench king, for having withdrawn their troops from his
army so unseasonably, as to occasion the loss of the Milanese, permitted him
to levy ten thousand men in the repubHc. Together with this reinforcement,
Lautrec received from the king a small sum of money, which enabled him
once more to take the field ; and after seizing by surprise, or force, several
places in the Milanese, to advance within a few miles ot the capital. The con-
federate army was in no condition to obstruct his progress ; for though the
inhabitants of Milan, by the artifices of Morone, and by the popular declama-
tions of a monk whom he employed, were enflamed with such enthusiastic
zeal against the French government, that they consented to raise extraordinary
contributions, Colonna must soon have abandoned the advantageous camp
which he had chosen at Bicocca, and have dismissed his troops for want of
pay, if the Swiss in the French service had not once more extricated him out
of his difficulties.

The insolence or caprice of those mercenaries was often no less fatal to
their friends, than their valour and discipline were formidable to their enemies.
Having now served some months without pay, of which they complained
loudh', a sum destined for their use was sent from France under a convoy of
horse*^; but Morone, whose vigilant eye nothing escaped, posted a body of
troops in their waj^, so that the party which escorted the money durst not
advance. On receiving intelligence of this, the Swiss lost all patience, and
officers, as well as soldiers, crowding round Lautrec, threatened with one
voice instantly to retire, if he did not either advance the pay which was due,
or promise to lead them next morning to battle. In vain did Lautrec remon-
strate against these demands, representirig to them the impossibility of the
former, and the rashness of the latter, which must be attended with certain
destruction, as the enemy occupied a camp naturally of great strength, and
which by art they had rendered abnost inaccessible. The Swiss, deaf to rea-
son, and persuaded that their valour was capable of surmounting every ob-
stacle, renewed their demand with great fierceness, offering themselves to
form the vanguard, and to begin the attack. Lautrec, unable to overcome
their obstinacy, complied with their request, hoping, perhaps, that some of
those unforeseen accidents which so often determine the fate of battles might
crown this rash enterprise with undeserved success ; and convinced that the
eff'ects of a defeat could not be more fatal than those which would certainly
follow upon the retreat of a body which composed one-half of his army.
Next morning the Swiss were early in the _ field, and marched vnth. the
greatest intrepidity against an enemy deeply intrenched on every side, sur-
rounded with artillery, and prepared to receive them. As they advanced, they
sustained a furious cannonade with great firmness ; and without waiting for
their o^vn artillery, rashed impetuously upon the intrenchments. _ But after
incredible efforts of valour, which were seconded with great spirit by the
French, having lost their bravest officers and best soldiers, and findmg that

'8 Herm. Moringi Vita Hadriani, ap. Casp. Burman. in Analect. de Hadr. p. 62. Con-
clave Hadr. ibid, pp 144, &c.

BOOK II.] HENRY DECLAHES WAK AGAINST FRANCE. 159

they could make no impression on the enemy's works, they sounded a retreat ;
leaving the field of battle, however, like men repulsed, but not vanquished,
in close array, and without receiving any molestation from the enemy.

Next day, sucii as survived set out for their own country : and Lautrec,
despairing of being able to make any further resistance, retired into France,
after throwing garrisons into Cremona and a few other places ; all which,
except the citadel of Cremona, Colonna soon obliged to surrender.

Genoa, however, and its territories, remaining subject to France, still gave
Francis considerable footing in Italy, and made it easy for him to execute
anj- scheme for the recovery of the Milanese. But Colonna, rendered enter-
prising by continual success, and excited by the solicitations of the faction
of the Adomi, the hereditary enemies of the Fregosi, who, under the protec-
tion of Framce, possessed the chief authority in Genoa, determined to attempt
the reduction ot that state ; and accomplished it with amazing facility. He
became master of Genoa, by an accident as unexpected as that which had
given him possession of Milan ; and, almost without opposition or bloodshed,
the power of the Adorni, and the authority of the emperor, were established
in Genoa.''

Such a cruel succession of misfortunes affected Francis with deep concern,
which was not a little augmented by the unexpected arrival of an English
herald, who, in the name of his sovereign, declared war inform against France.
This step was taken in consequence of the treaty which Wolsey had con-
cluded with the emperor at Bruges, and which had hitlierto^ been kept
secret. Francis, though he had reason to be surprised with this denuncia-
tion, after having been at such pains to soothe Henry and to gain his minister,
received the herald with great composure and dignity;^ and, without abandon-
ing any of the schemes which he was forming against the emperor, began
vigorous preparations for resisting this new enemy. His treasury, however,
being exhausted by the efforts which he had already made, as well as by the
sums he expended on his pleasures, he had recourse to extraordinary expe-
dients for supplying it. Several new offices were created and exposed to
sale ; the royal demesnes were alienated : unusual taxes were imposed ; and
the tomb of St. Martin was stripped of a rail of massive silver, with which
Louis XI., in one of his fits of devotion, had encircled it. By means of these
expedients he was enabled to levy a considerable army, and to put the fron-
tier towns in a good posture of defence.

The emperor, meanwhile, was no less solicitous to draw as much advantage
as possible from the accession of such a powerful ally ; and the prosperous
situation of his aifairs at this time permittmg him to set out for Spain, where
his presence was extremely necessary, he visited the court of England in his
way to that country. He proposed by this interview not only to strengthen
the bonds of friendship which united nim with Henry, and to excite him to
push the war against France with vigour, but hoped to remove any disgust or
resentment that Wolsey might have conceived on account of the mortifying
disappointment which he had met with in the late conclave. His success ex-
ceeded his most sanguine expectations ; and, by his artful address, during a
residence of six weeks in England, he gainea not only the king and the
minister, but the nation itself. Henry, whose vanity was sensibly flattered by
such a visit, as well as by the studied respect with which the emperor treated
him on every occasion, entered warmly into aU his schemes. The cardinal
foreseeing, from Adrian's age and infirmities, a sudden vacancy in the papal
see, dissembled or forgot his resentment ; and as Charles, besides augmenting

I

" Jovii Vita Ferdin. Davali, p. 344. Guic. lib. xiv. p. 233.
•* Journal de Louise de Savoie, p. 119.

Jj60 solyman the magnificent. [book II.

the pensions whicli he had already settled on liim, renewed his promise of
favouring bis pretensions to the papacy, with all liis interest, he endeavoured
to merit the former, and to secure the accomplishment of the latter, by fresh
services. The nation, sharing in the glory of its monarch, and pleased with
the confidence which the emperor placed in the English, by creatiug the earl
of Surrey his high-admiral, discovered no less inclination to commence hosti-
lities than Henry himself.

In order to give Charles, before he left England, a proof of this general
ardour, Surrey sailed with such forces as were ready, and ravaged the coasts
of Normandy. He then made a descent on Bretagne, where he plundered and
burnt Morlaix, and some other places of less consequence. After these slight
excursions, attended with greater dishonour than damage to Erance, he re-
paired to Calais, and took the commaiicl of the principal army, consisting of
sixteen thousand men ; with which, having joined the Elemisli troops under
the Count de Buren, he advanced into Picardy. The army which Erancis had
assembled was far inferior in number to these united bodies ; but, during the
long wars between the two nations, the Erencli had discovered the proper me-
thod of defending their country against the English. They had been taught
by their misfortunes to avoid a pitched battle with the utmost care, and to
endeavour, by throwing garrisons into every place capable of resistance, by
watching all the enemy's motions, by intercepting their convoys, attacking
their advanced posts, and harassing them continually with their numerous
cavalry, to ruin them with the length of the war, or to beat them by piecemeal.
This plan the duke of Vendome, the Erench general in Picardy, pursued with
no less prudence than success, and not only prevented SuiTcy from taking
any town of importance, but obliged him to retire with his army, greatly re-
duced by fatigue, by want of provisions, and by the loss which it had sustained
in several unsuccessful skirmishes.

Thus ended the second campaign, in a war the most general that had
hitherto been kindled in Europe ; and though Erancis, by his mother's ill-
timed resentment, by the disgusting insolence of his general, and the caprice
of the mercenary troops which he employed, had lost his conquests in Italy,
yet all the powers combined against him had not been able to make any im-
pression on his hereditary dominions ; and wherever they either intended or
attempted an attack, he \yas well prepared to receive them.

While the Christian princes Mere thus wasting each other's strength, Soly-
man the Magnificent entered Hungary with a numerous army, and investing
Belgrade, which was deemed the chief banier of that kingdom against the
Tui'kish arms, soon forced it to surrender. Encouraged by this success, he
turned his victorious arms against the island of Rhodes, the seat, at that
time, of the knights of St. John of Jerusalem. This small state he attacked
with such a numerous army, as the lords of Asia have been accustomed, in
every age, to bring into the field. Two hundred thousand men, and a fleet of
four hundred sail, appeared against a town defended by a garrison consisting
of five thousand soldiers, and six hundred knights, under the command of
YilKers de L'Isle xidam, the grand-master, whose wisdom and valour rendered
him worthy of that station at such a dangerous juncture. No sooner did he
begin to suspect the destination of Solyman's vast armaments, than he de-
spatched messengers to all the Christian courts, imploring their aid against the
common enemy. But though ever}^ prince in that age acknowledged Rhodes
to be the great bulwark of Christendom ij» the East, and trusted to the gal-
lantry of its knights as the best securitv ai,ainst the progress of the Ottoman
arms; though Adrian, with a zeal whicli became the head and father of the
church, exhorted the contenduig powers to forget their private quarrels, and,
by uniting their arms, to prevent the infldeis from destroying a society which

BOOKIII.l INSUnilECXION OF TOLEDO. i61

did lionour to the Christian name, yet so violent and implacable was the
animosity of both parties, that, rejrardless of the danger to which they exposed
all Europe and unmoved bvthc entreaties of the grand-master, or the admom-
tious of the pope, they sullcrcd Solyman to carry on his Operations against
llhodes without disturbance. The grand-master, after incredible efforts ot
courao-c of patience, and of militar\' conduct, during a sie^e of six months ;
after sustaining inanv assaults, and disputing every post with amazing obsti-
nacy was obliged at last to yield to numbers; and, having obtamed an
honourable capitulation from tlie sultan, who admired and respected his virtue,
he surrendered the town, which was reduced to a heap of rubbish, and destitute
of every resource.*^ Charles and I'rancis, ashamed of having occasioned such
a loss to Christendom bv their ambitious contests, endeavoured to throw the
blame ot it on each other, while all Europe, with greater justice, imputed it
dually to both. The emperor, by way of reparation, granted the knights ot
St John the small island of Malta, in which they fixed their residence, retain-
ing, though with less power and splendour, their ancient spn-it, and implacable
enmity to the infidels,

81 Foiitanusde Bello Ehodio, ap. Scard. Script. Rer. German, vol. ii. p. 88. P. Barre,
Bist. d'Allera. torn. viii. p. 57.

BOOK III.

Insurrections — Attempts of the Ee^ent, Adrian, to suppress them — Confederacy in Castile
against him — Measures taken by tlie Emperor — Remonstrance of the Junta — They
take up Arms — Their Negotiations with the Nobles — The Junta, under Padilla, de-
feated in Battle — Defence of Toledo by his Widow — The War in Valencia and in
Majorca — Generosity of the Emperor — Eeception of Adrian at Kome — His pacific
Policy — A New League against France — Treachery of the Duke of Bourbon —
Francis attacks Milan — Death of Adrian, and Election of Clement VII. — Disappoint-
ment of Wolsey— Progress of the War with France — Pope Clement unable to brmg
about Peace — The French abandon the ^Milanese — Death of Bayard — The Reformation
in Germany — Luther translates the Bible — The Diet at Nuremberg proposes a General
Council — The Diet presents a Lisi of Grievances to the Pope — Opinion at Rome con-
cerning the Policy of Adrian— Clement's Measures against Luther.

[1522.1 Chakles, having had the satisfaction of seeing hostilities begun be-
tween Eranee and Eugland,_ took leave of Henry, and arrived in Spain on the
seventeenth of June. He found that country just beginning to recover order
and strengtli after the miseries of a civil war, to whicli it had been* exposed
during his absence • an account of the rise and progress of which, as it was

>but little connected with the other events which happened in Europe, hath

'been reserved to this place.

No sooner was it known that the cortes assembled in Galicia had voted the
emperor a free gift, without obtaining the redress of any one grievance, than
it excited universal indignation. The citizens of Toledo, who considered them-
selves, on account of the great privileges which they enjoyed, as guardians of
the liberties of the Castilian commons, finding that no regard was paid to the
remonstrances of their deputies against that unconstitutional grant, took arms
with tumultuar)' violence, and, seizing the gates of the city, wnich were for-

K

16? INSTJEEECTION OF SEGOVIA, BURGOS, ETC. [BOOK III.

tified, attacked the alcazar, or castle, whicli they soon obliged the governor to
surrender. Emboldened by this success, they d.eprived of all authority every
person whom they suspected of any attachment to the coui*t, established a
popular form of government, composed of deputies from the several parishes
m the city, and levied troops in their own defence. The chief leader of the
people in these insurrections was Don John de Padilla, the eldest son of the
commendator of Castile, a young nobleman of a generous temper, of undaunted
courage, and possessed of the talents, as well as of the ambition, which in
times of civil discord, raise men to power and eminence.^

The resentment of the citizens of Segovia produced effects still more fatal.
Tordesillas, one of their representatives in the late cortes, had voted for the
donative, a,nd being a. bold and haughty man, ventured, upon his return, to cali
together his fellow-citizens in the great church, that he might give them, ac-
cording to custom, an account of his conduct in the assembly. But the multi-
tude, unable to bear his insolence, in attempting to justify what they thought
inexcusable, burst open the gates of the church with the utmost fuiy, and
seizing the unhappy Tordesillas, dragged him through the streets, with a
thousand curses and insults, towards the place of public execution. In vain
did the dean and canons come forth iii procession with the holy sacrament m
order to appease their rage. In vain, did the monks of those monasteries by
which they passed, conjure them on their knees to spare his life, or at least
aUow him tune to confess, and to receive absolution of his sins. Without
listening to the dictates either of humanity or religion, they cried out, " That the
hangman alone could absolve such a traitor to his country :" they then hurried
him along with great -violence ; and perceivmg that he had expired under their
hands, they hung him up with his head downwards on the common gibbet.^
The same spirit seized the inhabitants of Burgos, Zamora, and several other
cities ; and though their representatives, takiag warning from the fate of Tor-
desillas, had been so wise as to save themselves by a timely flight, they were
burnt in effigy, their houses razed to the ground, and their effects consumed
with fire ; and such was the horror which the people had conceived against
them, as betrayers of the public liberty, that not one in those licentious mul-
titudes would touch anything, however valuable, which had belonged to
them.^

Adrian, at that time regent of Spaiu, had scarcely fixed the seat of his go-
vernment at Yalladolid, when he was alarmed with an account of these insur-
rections. He immediately assembled the privy council to deliberate concern-
ing the proper method of suppressing them. The councillors differed in
opinion; some insisting that it was necessary to check this audacious spirit
in its infancy by a severe execution of justice ; others advising to treat with
lenity a people who had some reason to be incensed, and not to drive them
beyond all the bounds of duty by an ill-timed rigour. The sentiments of the
former being warmly supported by the archbishop of Granada, president of
the council, a person of great authority, but choleric and impetuous, were
approved by Adrian, whose zeal to support his master's auth9rity hurried
hm into a measm-e, to which, from his natui-al caution and timidity, he would
otherwise have been averse. He commanded RonciuiUo, one of the king's
judges, to repair instantly to Segovia, which had set the first example of
mutiny, and to proceed against the delinquents according to law ; and, lest
the people should be so outrageous as to resist his authority, a considerable
body of troops was appointed to attend him. The Segovians, foreseemg what
they might expect from a judge so well known for his austere and unforgivmg
temper, took arms with one consent, and having mustered twelve thousand

Sandov. p. 77. 2 p. Mart. Ep. 61. ^ Sandov. 103. P. Mart. Ep. 674.

BOOK III.] TRIUMPH OP THE PEOPLE. 163

men, shut their ^ates a^aiust him. Ronquillo, enraged at this insult de-
jiouiiced llieni as rebels and outlaws, and his troops seizing all the avenues
to the town hoped tiuit it would soon be obliged to surrender for want of
nroyisions. Ihc inhabitants however, defended themselves with vigour and
fiaving received a considerable reinforcement from Toledo, under the com-
maud of Paddla, attacked KoiKiuillo, and forced him to retire with the loss
of his baggage and military chest.*

Ui)on this, Adrian ordered Antonio de Fonseea, whom the emperor had
appomted commander-m-ehiet of the forces in Castile, to assemble an army
and to besiege Segovia m form. But the inhabitants of Medina del Campo!
where Cardmal Ximeiies had established a vast magazine of mHitary stores
would not sutler him to draw from it a train of battering cannon, or to destroy
their countrymen with those arms which had been prepared against the
enemies of the kingdom, i^onseca, who could not execute Ms orders without
artillery, determined to seize the magazine by force; and the citizens standing
on their defence, he assaulted the town with great briskness: but his troons
were so warmly received that, despairing of carrying the place, he set fire to
some of the houses, in hopes that the citizens would abandon the walls, in
order to save their families and effects. Instead of that, the expedient to
winch he had recourse sen^d only to increase their fury, and he was repulsed
with gi-eat disgrace ; while the flames, spreading from street to street, reduced
to ashes almost the whole town, one of the most considerable at that time in
fepam, and tlie great mart for the manufactures of Segovia and several other
cities As the warehouses were then filled with goods for the approaching
lair, the loss was immense, and was felt universally. Tliis, added to the im-
pression which such a cruel action made on a people long unaccustomed to
tne horrors ot civil war, enraged the Castilians almost to madness. Fonseea
became the object of general hatred, and was branded with the name of in-
cendiary, and enemy tj his country. Even the citizens of VaUadolid, whoir
tlie presence of the cardinal had hitherto restrained, declared that they couio
no Ipnger remain inactive spectators of the sufferings of their countrjTnen.
lakmg arms with no less tury than the other cities, they burnt Fonseca's
house to the ground elected new magistrates, raised soldiers, appointed
officers to command them and guarded their walls with as much diligence as
if an enemy had been ready to attack them.

The cardinal, though viriuous and disinterested, and capable of governing
the kingdom with honour m times of tranquillity, possessed neither the
C9urage nor the sagacity necessary at such a dangerous juncture. Finding
iimseit unable to check these outrages committed under his own eye he at-
tempted to JPpease the people, by protesting that Fonseea had exceeded his
orders, aiid had by his rash conduct offended him, as much as he had injured
t lem. ihis condescension, the effect of irresolution and timidity, rendered
the malecontents bolder and more insolent; and the cardinal having soon
alter recalled lonseca, dismissed his troops, which he could no lon-e'afford
to pay, as the treasury, drained by the rajpaciousness of the Flemish ministers,
had received Jo supply from the great cities, which were aU in arms, the people
were lelt at fu^l hberi;y to act without control, and scarcely any shadow of
power remamed m his hands.

Nor were the proceedings of the commons the effect merely of popidar and
tumultuary rage ; they aimed at obtaimng redress of their political grievances,
and an estabhshment of pubhc liberty on a secure basis, objects worthy of all
ttie zeal which they discovered m contending for them. The feudal govern-
ment m bpain was at that time in a state more favoui-able to liberty than in

« Sandov. p. 112. P. Mart. Ep. 679. .^liniana, Contin. p. 15.

m2

164: CONFEDERACY OF THE COMMONS OF CASTILE. [BOOK IH.

any other of the great European kmgdoms. Tliis was owing chiejfiy to thi
number of great cities in that country, a ckcumstance I have already taken
notice of, and which contributes more than any other to mitigate the rigour
of the feudal institutions, and to introduce a more liberal and equal form of
government. The inhabitants of every city formed a great corporation, with
valuable immunities and privileges ; they were delivered from a state of sub-
jection and vassalage ; they were admitted to a considerable sliare in the legis-
lature ; they had acquired the arts of industry, without wliich cities cannot
subsist • they had accumulated wealth by engaging in commerce ; and, being
free and independent themselves were ever ready to act as the guardians of
the public freedom and independence. The genius of the internal govern-
ment established among the inhabitants of cities, wliich, even in countries
where despotic power prevails most, is democratical and republican, ren-
dered tiie idea ol liberty familiar and dear to them. Their representatives in
the cortes were accustomed witJi equal spirit to check the encroachments
of the king, and the oppression of the nobles. They endeavoured to extend
the privileges of their own order ; they laboured to shake off the remainuig
incumbrances with which the spirit of feudal pohcy, favourable only to the
nobles, had burdened them ; and, conscious of being one of the most con-
siderable orders in the state, were ambitious of becoming the most powerful.

The present juncture appeared favourable for pushing any new claim.
Their sovereign was absent from his dominions ; by the ill conduct of his
ministers, he had lost the esteem and affection of his subjects ; the people,
exasperated by many injuries, had taken arms, though without concert, abnost
by general consent ; they were animated with rage capable of carrjing them
to the most violent extremes ; the royal treasury was exhausted, the kingdom
destitute of troops, and the government committed to a stranger, of great
virtue, indeed, but of abilities unequal to such a trust. The first care of
Padilla, and the other popular leaders who observed and determined to im-
prove these circumstances, was to establish some form of union or association
among the malecontents, that they might act with greater regularity, and
pursue one common end ; and as the different cities had been prompted to
take arms by the same motives, and were accustomed to consider themselves
as a distinct body from the rest of the subjects, they did not find this difficult.
A general convention was appointed to be held at Avila. Deputies appeared
there in name of almost all the cities entitled to have representatives in the
cortes. They all bound themselves by solemn oath to live and die in the
service of the king, and in defence of the privileges of their order : and as-
suming the name of the "holy junta," or association, proceeded to deliberate
concerning the state of the nation, and the proper method of redressing its
grievances. The first that naturally presented itself was the nomination of a
preigner to be regent ; this they declared with one voice to be a violation
)f the fundamental laws of the kingdom, and resolved to send a deputation of
iheir members to Adrian, requiring him, in their name, to lay aside all the
ensigns of his office, and to abstain for the future from the exercise of a juris-
diction which they had pronounced illegal.*

\Vliile they were preparing to execute this bold resolution, Padilla accom-
plished an enterprise of the greatest advantage to the cause. After relieving
Segovia, he marched suddenly to Tordesillas, the place where the unhappy
queen Joanna had resided eince the death of her husband, and, being favoured
by the inhabitants, was admitted into the town, and became master of her
person, for the security of which Adrian had neglected to take proper pre-

P. Mart. Ep. 691.

BOOK III.J QUEEN JOANNA AND THE CONFEDEBACY. 165

cautions.* Padilla waited immediately upon the queen, and, accosting her
\rith that profound respect which she exacted from the few persons whom
slic dci'i:ncd to admit mto her presence^ acquainted her at large with the
miserable condition of her Castilian subjects under the government of her
son, who, being destitute of experience himself, permitted his foreign mt
nisters to treat them with such rigour as had obliged them to take arms in
defence of the liberties of their country. The queen, as if she had been
awakened out of a lethargy, expressed great astonishment at what he said, and
told him, tliat as she had never heard until that moment of the death of her
father, or known the sufferings of her people, no blame could be imputed to
her, but that now she would take care to provide a sufficient remedy ; "And,
in the meantime," added she, "let it be your concern to do what is necessary
for the public welfare." Padilla^ too eager in forming a conclusion agreeable
to his wishes, mistook this lucid interval of reason for a perfect return of
that faculty ; and, acquainting the junta with what had happened, advised
them to remove to Tordesillas, and to hold their meetings in that place. This
was instantly done ; but though Joanna received very graciously an address
of the junta, beseeching her to take upon herself the govermnent of the king-
dom, and, in token of her compliance, admitted all the deputies to kiss her
hand ; though she was present at a tournament held on that occasion, and
seemed highly satisfied with both these ceremonies, which were conducted
with great magnificence in order to please her, she soon relapsed into her
former melancholy and sullenness, and could never be brought by any argu-
ments or entreaties to sign any one paper necessary for the dispatch of busi-
ness.'

The junta, concealing as much as possible this last circumstance, carried on
all their deliberations in the name of Joanna; and as the CastiKans, who
idolized the memory of Isabella, retained a wonderful attachment to her
daughter, no sooner was it known that she had consented to assume the reins
of govenmient, than the people expressed the most, universal and immoderate
^oy; and, believing her recovery to be complete, ascribed it to a miraculous
interposition of heaven, in order to rescue their country from the oppression of
foreigners. The junta, conscious of the reputation and power which they had
acquired by^ seeming to act under the royal authority, were no longer satisfied
with reouiring Adrian to resign the ofiice of regent ; they detached Padilla to
Valladolid with a considerable body of troops, ordering him to seize such
members of the council as were still in that city, to conduct them to Tordesillas,
and to bring away the seals of the kingdom, the public archives, and treasury
bcoks, Padilla, who was received by the citizens as the deliverer of his
country, executed his commission witn great exactness ; permitting Adi'ian,
however, still to reside in Valladolid, though only as a private person, and
without any shadow of power.^

The emperor, to whomfrenuent accounts of these transactions were trans-
mitted while he was still in Planders, was sensible of his own imprudence and
that of his ministers, in having despised too long the murmurs and remon-
strances of the Castilians. He beheld, with deep concern, a kingdom, tlie most
valuable of any he possessed, and in which lay the strength and sinews of his
power, just ready to disown his authority, and on the point of being plunged
m all the miseries of civil war. But though his presence might have averted
this calamity, he could not, at that time, visit Spain with out endangering the
imperial crown, and allowing the French king full leisure to execute his ambi-

« Vita deir Iraper. Carl. V dell' Alf. Ulloa. Veil. 1509, p. 67. Miniana, Contin. p. 17
' Sandov. 164. P. Mart. Ep. 685, 680. » Sandov. 174. P. .Mart. Ep. 791.

166 IlEilO^'STBANCE OF THE JUI^IA. [BOOK III.

tious schemes. The ouly point noTr to be deliberated upon was, whether hs
should attempt to gain the nialecontents by iudulgence and concessions, oi
prepare dii-ectly to suppress them by force; and lie_ resolved to make trial d
the former, while, at the same time, u that should fail of success, he prepared
for the latter. For this purpose he issued circular letters to all the cities oi
Castne, exhortiiig them, in most gentle tenns, and with assurances of fall
pardon, to lay down their arms ; he promised sucli cities as had continued
faithful, not to exact from them the subsidy granted in the late cortes, and
offered the same favour to such as returned to their duty ; he engaged that no
office should be conferred for the future upon any but native Castilians. On
the other hand, he wrote to the nobles, exciting them to appear with vigour in
defence of their own rights, and those of the crovra, against the exorbitant
claims of the commons ; he appointed the high admii-al, Don Tadrique
Enriques, and the high constable of Castile, Don Inigo de yalasco,_two noble-
men of great abilities as well as influence, regents of the kingdom in conjunc-
tion with Adrian ; and he gave them full power and instructions, if the ob-
stinacy of the nialecontents should render it necessary, to vindicate the royal
authority by force of arms.^

These concessions, wliich at the time of his leaving Spain, would have fully
satisfied the people, came now too late to produce any etfect. Tlie junta,
relying on the unanimity with which the nation submitted to their authority,
elated with the success wliich hitherto had accompanied all their undertakings,
and seeing no militarj^ force collected to defeat or obstruct their designs,
aimed at a more thorough reformation of political abuses. They had been em-
ployed for some time in preparing a remonstrance, containing a large enume-
ration, not only of the grievances of which they craved redress, but of such
new regulations as they thought necessary for the security of their liberties.
This remonstrance, which is divided into many articles, relating to all the
different members of which the constitution was composed, as well as the
various departments in the administration of government,^ furnishes us with
more authentic evidence concerning the intentions of _ the junta, than can be
i:awn from the testimony of the later Spanish liistorians, wlio lived in times
when it became fashionable, and even necessary, to represent the conduct of
the malecontents in the worst light, and as flowing from the worst motives.
After a long preamble concerning the various calamities under which the
nation groaned, and the errors and corruption in government to which these
were to be imputed, they take notice of the exemplary patience wherewith the
people had endured them, until self-preservation, and the duty which they
owed to their country, had obliged them to assemble, in order tcnprovide in a
legal manner for their own safety, and that of the constitution. For this pur-
pose they demanded that the king would be pleased to return to his Spanish
dominions and reside there, as all their former monarchs had done ; that he
would not marry but with consent of the cortes ; that if he should be obliged
at any time to leave the kingdom, it shall not be lawful to appoint any
foreigner to be regent ; that the present nomiuation of cardinal Adrian to that
office shall instantly be declared void ; that he would not, at his return, briu^
along with him any Flemings or other strangers ; that no foreign troops shall,
on any pretence whatever, be introduced into the kingdom ; that none biit
natives shall be capable of holding any office or benefice either in church or
state ; that no foreigner shall be naturalized ; that free quarters shall not be
granted to soldiers, nor to the members of the king's household, for any longer
time than six days, and that only when the court is in a progress ; that all the
taxes shall be reduced to the same state they were in at the death of queen

9 P. Heuter. Ker. Austr. lib. viii. ch. 6, p. 188.

BOOK III.] ITS POLITICAL WISDOM. 167

Isabella; that all alienations of the royal demesnes or revenues since the
queen's ik^atli shall be re^^uined ; that all new olEces created since that period
Siiall be abolished; tliat the subsidy granted by the late cortcs in Galicia shall
not be exacted ; that in all future eortes each city shall send one representa-
tive of the clergy, one of the gentry, and one of the conunons, each to be
elected by his own order ; that the crown shall not influence or direct any city
v/ith regard to the choice of its representatives ; that no member of the eortes
shall receive an office or pension nrom the kin^, cither for himself or for any
of his farailv, under pain of death, and confiscation of his goods ; that each city
or coimnumty shall pay a comjjetent salary to its representative for his main-
tenance during his attendance on the eortes ; that the eortes shall assemble
once in three yeai's at least, whether summoned by the king or not, and shall
then inquire into the observation of the articles now agreed upon, and de-
liberate concerning public affairs ; that the rewards which have been given or
promised to any of tlie members of the eortes held in Galicia shall be revoked ;
that it shall be declared a capital crime to send gold, silver, or jewels out of
the kingdom; that judges shall have fixed salaries assigned them, and shall
not receive any share of the fines and forfeitures of persons condemned by
them ; that no grant of the goods of persons accused shall be valid, if given
before sentence was pronounced against them ; that all privileges which the
nobles have at any time obtained, to the prejudice of the commons, shall be
revoked ; that the government of cities or towns shall not be put into tlie liands
of noblemen; that the possessions of the nobility shall be subject to all public
taxes in the same manner as those of the commons ; that an inquiry be made
into the conduct of such as have been entrusted with the management of the
royal patrimony since the accession of rerdinand ; and if the king do not
within thirty davs appoint persons properly qualified for that service, it shall
be lawful for the cortcs to nominate them • that indulgences shall not be
preached or dispersed in the kingdom until the cause of publishing them be
examined and approved of by the eortes ; that all the money arismg from the
sale of indulgences shall be faitlifully employed in can-ying on war against the
infidels ; that such prelates as do not reside in their dioceses six months in the
year, shaU forfeit their revenues duiing the time they are absent ; that the
ecclesiastical judges and their officers shall not exact greater fees than those
■which are paid in the secular courts ; that the present archbishop of Toledo,
being a foreimer, be compelled to resign that dignity, wliich shall be conferred
upon a Castilian ; that the king shall ratify and hold, as good service done to
him and to the kingdom, all the proceedings of the junta, and pardon any
irregularities wliich the cities may nave committed from an excess of zeal in
a good cause ; that he shall promise and swear in the most solemn maimer to
observe all these articles, and on no occasion attempt either to elude or to
repeal them ; and that he shall never solicit the pope or any other prelate to
grant him a dispensation or absolution from this oath and promise.^" ^

Such were the chief articles presented by the junta to their sovereign. As
the feudal institutions in the several kingdpms of Europe were originally the
same, the genius of those governments wliich arose from them bore a strong
resemblance to each other, and the regulations which the Castilians attempted
to establisli on this occasion, difi'er little from those wliich other nations nave
laboured to procm-e in their struggles with their monarchs for liberty. The
grievances complained of, and the remedies proposed by the Englisli commons
m their contests with the princes of the house of Stuart, particularly resemble
those upon which the junta now insisted. But the principles of libertv seem
to have been better understood at this period by the Castilians than by any

»» Sandov. 206. P. Mart. Ep. 686.

108 THE JUNTA TAKE UP AKilS. [liOOK III,

otlier people in Europe ; they had acquired more liberal ideas with respect to
their own rights and privileges ; they had formed more bold and generous
sentiments concerning government ; and discovered an extent of political
knoAvledge to which the English themselves did not attain until more tlitui a
century afterwards.

It is not improbable, however, that the spirit of reformation among th©
Castilians, hitherto unrestrained by authority, and emboldened by success,
became too impetuous, and prompted the junta to propose innovations which,
by alarming the other members of the constitution, proved fatal to their cause.
The nobles, who, instead of obstructing, had favoured or connived at theii=
proceedings, while they confined their demands of redress to such grievances
as had been occasioned by the king's want of experience, and by the impru-
dence and rapaciousness of his foreign ministers, were filled with indignation
when the junta began to touch the privileges of their order, and plainly saw-
that the measures of the commons tended no less to break the power of the
aristocracy, than to limit the prerogatives of the crown. The resentment
which they had conceived on account of Adrian's promotion to the regency
abated considerably upon the emperor's raising the constable and admiral to
joint power with him in that office ; and as their pride and dignity were less
nui't by suffering the prince to possess an extensive prerogative, than by ad-
mitting the high pretensions of the people, they determined to give their
sovereign the assistance which he had demanded of them, and began to as-
semble their vassals for that purpose.

The junta, meanwhile, expected with impatience the emperor's answer to
their remonstrance, which they had appointed some of their number to present.
The members entrusted with this commission set out immediately for Ger-
many • but having received at different places certain intelligence from court
that they could not venture to appear there without endangering their lives,
they stopped short in their journey, and acquainted the junta of the informa-
tion which had been given them.'' This excited such violent passions as
transported the whole party beyond all bounds of prudence or of moderation.
That a king of Castile should deny his subjects access into his presence, or
refuse to Hsten to their humble petitions, was represented as an act of tpanny
so unprecedented and intolerable, that notliiug now remaiiied but with arms
in their hands to diive away that ravenous band of foreimers which encom-
passed the throne, who, after having devoured the wealth of the kingdom,
found it necessary to prevent the cries of an injured people from reaching
the ears of their sovereign. Many insisted warmly on approving a motion
which had formerly been made, for depriving Charles, during the life of his
mother, of the regal titles and authority which had been too rashly confen-ed
upon him,' from a false supposition of her total inability for goyernment.
Some proposed to provide a proper person to assist her in the adminisi ration
of public affairs, by marrying the queen to the prince of Calabria, the heir
of the Aragonese kings of Naples, who had been detained in prison since the
time that Ferdinand had dispossessed his ancestors of then- crown. All agreed
•ihat, as the hopes of obtaining redress and security merely by presenting
their requests to their sovereign, had kept them too long in astate of inac-
tion, and prevented them from taking advantage of the unanimity Mith wliich
the nation declared in their favour, it was now necessary to collect their whole
force, and to exert themselves with vigour, in opposing this fatal combina-
tion of the king and the nobility against their liber ties. '-

They soon took the field with twenty thousand men. Violent disi)utc3
arose concerning the command of this army. Padilla, the darling of tho

» Sandov. 143. ^^ P. IMart. Ep. 688.

I

BOOK 111.] THEIR DEFEAT. 169

Eeople and soldiers, was the only person whom they thought worthy of this
onour. But Don Pedro de Giron, the eldest son of the Conde do IJruena, a
young nobleman of the first order, having lately joined the commons out of
private resentment against the emperor, the respect due to his birth, together
with a secret desire of disappointing Padilla, of whose popularity many
members of the junta had become jealous, procured him the othce of general;
though he soon ^ave them a fatal proof that he possessed neither the ex-
perience, the abilities, nor the steadiness which that important station
reouired.

The regents, meanwhile, appointed Rioseco as the place of rendezvous for
their troops, which, though far inferior to those of the commons in number,
excelled them greatly in discipline and in valour. They had drawn a con-
siderable body of regular and veteran infantry out of Navarre. Their cavalry,
wliich formedf the chief strength of their armv, consisted mostly of gentlemen
accustomed to the military life, and animated with the martial spirit peculiar
t9 their order in that age. The infantry of the junta was fonned entirely of
citizens and mechanics, little acquainted with the use of arms. The small
body of cavalry which they had been able to raise was composed of persons of
ignoble birth, and perfect strangers to the service into which they entered.
The character of the generals differed no less than that of their troops. The
royaUsts were conunanded by the Conde de Haro, the constable's eldest son,
an officer of great experience and of distinguished abilities.

Giron marched with his army directly to llioseco, and, seizing the villages
and passes around it, hoped that the royalists would be obliged either to sur-
render for want of provisions, or to fight with disadvantage before all their
troops were assembled. But he had not the abilities, nor his troops the pa-
tience and discipline, necessary for the execution of such a scheme. The
Conde de Haro found little difficulty in conducting a considerable reinforce-
ment through all his posts into the town ; and Giron, despairing of being able
to reduce it, advanced suddenly to Yillapanda, a place belonging to the
constable, in which the enemy had their cliief magazine of provisions. By
this ill-judged motion he left Tordesillas open to the royalists, whom the
Conde de Haro led thither in the night with the utmost secrecy and despatch ;
and attacking^ the town in wliich Giron had left no other gan-ison than a
regiment of priests raised by the bishop of Zamora, he, by break of day, forced
his way into it, after a desperate resistance, became master of the queen's
person, took prisoners many members of the junta, and recovered the great
seal, with the other ensigns of government.

By this fatal blow the junta lost all the reputation and authoritv which
they had derived from seeming to act by the queen's commands ; such of the
nobles as had hitherto been wavering or undetermined m their choice, now
joined the regents, with all their forces ; and a universal consternation seized
the partisans of the commons. This was much increased by the suspicious
they Deganto entertain of Giron, whom they loudly accused of having betrayed
Tordesillas to the enemy ; and though that charge seems to have been des-
titute of foundation, the success of the royalists being owing to Giron's
iU-conduct rather than to his treachery, he so entirely lost credit with h-is
party that he resigned his commission, and retired to one of his castles.'^

Such members of the junta as had escaped the enemy's hands at Tordesillas
fled to Valladolid ; and as it would have required long time to supply the
places of those who were prisoners by a new election, they made choice
among themselves of a small number of persons, to whom they committed
the supreme direction of alFau-s. Their army, which grew stronger every day

13 Miscellaneous Tracts by Dr. Mich, Geddes, vol. i. p, 278.

170 NEGOTIATIONS AUb INTKIGUES, [BOOK HI.

by the arrival of troops from different parts of the kingdom, marched like-
wise to Valladolid; andPadilla being appointed commander-in-ehief, the
spirits of the soldiery revived, and the whole pai-ty, forgetting the late mis-
fortune, continued to express the same ardent zeal for tiie liberties of their
country, and the same implacable animosity against their oppressors.

What they stood most m need of was money to pay their troops, A great
part of the current coin had been carried out of the kingdom by the Flemings •
the stated taxes levied in times of peace were inconsiderable ; commerce of
every Kind being interrupted by the war, the sum which it yielded decreased
daily ; and the junta were afraid of disgusting the people by burdening them
with new impositions, to which, in that age, they were little accustomed.
But from this difficulty they were extricated by Donna Maria Pacheco,
Padilla's wife, a woman of noble birth, of great abilities, of boundless ambi-
tion, and animated with the most ardent zeal in support of the cause of the
^unta. She, with a boldness superior to those superstitious fears which often
influence her sex, proposed to seize all the rich and magnificent ornaments in
the cathedral of Toledo • but lest that action, by its appearance of impietj^,
might offend the people, she and her retinue marched to the church in
solemn procession, in mourning habits, with tears in their eyes, beating
their breasts, and, falling on their knees, implored the pardon of the saints
whose shrines she was about to violate. By this artifice, which screened her
from the imputation of sacrilege, and persuaded the people that necessity and
zeal for a good cause had constrained her, though with reluctance, to venture
upon this action^ she stripped the cathedral of whatever was valuable, and
procured a considerable sum of money for the junta." The regents, no less
at a loss how to maintain their troops, the revenues of the crown having
either been dissipated by the Elemings or seized by the commons, were
obliged to take the queen's jewels, together with the plate belonging to the
nobility, and apply them to that purpose ; and when those failed, they ob-
tained a small sum by way of loan from the king of Portugal. ^^

The nobility discovered great unwillingness to proceed to extremities with
the Junta. They were animated with no less hatred than the commons
against the Plemmgs ; they approved much of several articles in the remon-
strance ; they thought the juncture favourable, not only for redressing past
grievances, but for renderiag the constitution more perfect and secure by
new regulations ; they were afraid that while the two orders, of which the
legislature was composed, wasted each other's strength by mutual hostilities^
the crown would rise to power on the ruin or weakness of both, and encroacn
no less on the iiidependence of the nobles than on the privileges of the
commons. To this disposition were owing the frequent overtures of peace
which the regents made to the junta, and the continual negotiations they
carried on during the progress of their nulitaiy operations. Nor were the
terms which they offered uni-easonable; for, on condition that the junta would
pass from a few articles most subversive of the royal authority, or incon-
sistent with the rights of the nobility, they engaged to procure the emperor's
consent to their other demands, AYhich, n he, thi-ough the influence of evil
counsellors, should refuse, several of the nobles promised to join with the
commons in their endeavours to extort it.^^ Such divisions, however, pre-
vailed among the members of the junta, as prevented their deliberating calmly,
or judging with prudence. _ Some of the cities which had just entered into
the confederacy were filled with that mean jealousy and distrust of each other,
which rivalship in commerce or in grandeur is apt to inspire ; the constable,

" Sandov. 308. Diet, de Bayle, art. Padilla.

" P. Jilai't. Ep. 718. " Ibid. C95, 713. Geddes's Tracts, i. 261,

^OK III.] OPEEATIONS OP PADILLi^ J 71

by his influence and promises, had prevailed on the inhabitants of Burgos
to abandon the junta, and otliei noblemen had shaken the fidelity of some of
the lesser cities ; no person had arisen among the commons of such superior
abilities or elevation of mind as to acquire the direction of theii* affairs ;
Padilla, their general, was a man of popular qualities, but distrusted for
that reason by those of highest rank who adhered to the junta ; the conduct
of Giron led the people to view with suspicion every person of noble birth
who joined their party ; so that the strongest marks of irresolution, mutual
distrust, and mediocnty of genius, appeared in all their proceedings at this
time. Alter many consultations held concerning the terms proposed by thf,
regents, they suffered themselves to be so carried away by resentment against
the nobility, that, rejecting all thoughts of accommodation, they threatened
to strip them of the crown lands, which they or their ancestors had usurped,
and to re-annex these to the royal domain. Upon this preposterous scheme,
wliich would at once have annihilated all the liberties for which they had
been struggling, by rendering the kings of Castile absolute and independent
of tlieir siibjects, they were so intent, that they now exclaimed with lesfe
vehemence against the exactions of the foreign ministers, than against the
exorbitant power and wealth of the nobles, and seemed to hope that they
might make peace with Charles, by offering to enrich him with theii* spoils.

The success which Padilla had met with in several small rencontres, and
in reducing some inconsiderable towns, helped to precipitate the members of
the junta into this measure, filling them with such confidence in the valour
of their troops, that they hoped for an easy victory over the royalists. Padilla,
that his army might not remain inactive while flushed with good fortune, laia
siege to Torrelobaton, a place of greater strength and importance than anjr
that he had hitherto ventured to attack, and which was defended by a sut-
ficient garrison ; and though the besieged made a desperate resistance, and the
admiral attempted to relieve them, he took the town by storm [1531], and
gave it up to be plundered by his soldiers. If he had marched instantly
with his victorious armv to Tordesillas, the head-CLuarters of the royalists, he
could hardly have failed of making an effectual impression on their troops,
whom he would have found in astonishment at the briskness of his opera-
tions, and far from being of sufficient strength to give him battle. But the
fickleness and imprudence of the junta prevented liis taking this step. In-
capable, like aU popular associations, either of carrj-ing on war or of making
peace, they listened again to overtures of accommodation, and even agreed
to a short suspension of arms. This negotiation terminated in nothing : but
while it was carrying on, many of Padilla's soldiers, unacquainted with the
restraints of discipline, went off with the booty which they had got at Torre-
lobaton • and others, wearied out bv the unusual length of the campaign,
desertea.^" The constable, too, had leisure to assemble his forces at Burgos,
and to prepare evei-j-thin^ for taking the field ; and as soon as the truce ex-
pired, he effected a junction with the Conde de Haro, in spite of all Padilla's
efforts to prevent it. They advanced immediately towards Ton-elobaton ; and
Padilla. finding the number of his troops so diminished that he durst not
risk a Dattle,_ attempted to retreat to Toro, which if he could have accom-
plished, the invasion of Navarre at that juncture by the Preneh, and the
necessity wliich the regents must have been under of detaching men to that
kingdom, might have saved him from danger. But Hai-o, sensible how
fatal the consequences would be of suffering him to escape, marched with sucli
rapidity at the head of his cavalry, that he came up with him near ViUalar,
and, without waiting for liis iniantry, advanced to the attack. Padilla's

»' Saziov. 335.

173 DEATH OF i'ADILLA. [BOOK IH.

army, fatigued and disheartened by their precipitate retreat, which they
could not distinguish from a flight, happened at that time to be passing
over a ploughed field, on which such a violent rain had fallen, that the sol-
diers sunk almost to the knees at every step, and remained exposed to the lire
of some field-pieces which the royalists had brought along with them. All
these circumstances so disconcerted and intimidated raw soldiers, that,
without facing the enemy, or making any resistance, they fled in the utmost
confusion. Padilia exerted himself with extraordinary courage and activity
in order to rally them, though in vam, fear rendering them deaf both to his
threats and entreaties ; upon which, finding matters irretrievable, and re-
solving not to survive the disgi-ace of that day and the ruin of his party, he
rusheof into the thickest of the enemy, but being wounded and dismounted, he
was taken prisoner. His principal officers shared the same fate ; the common
soldiers were allowed to depart unhurt, the nobles being too generous to kill
men who threw down their arms.^^
The resentment of his enemies did not suffer Padilia to linger long in ex-

})ectation of what should befall him. Next day he was condemned to lose
lis head, though without any regular trial, the notoriety of the crune being
supjposed sufficient to supersede the formality of a legal process. He was
led instantly to execution, together with Don John Bravo, and Don Erancis
Maldonada, the former commander of the Segovians, and the latter of the
troops of Salamanca. Padilia viewed the approach of death with calm but
undaunted fortitude ; and when Bravo, his feJlow-sufterer, expressed some in-
dignation at hearing himself proclaimed a traitor, he checked him, by observing,
" That yesterday was the time to have displayed the spirit of gentlemen, this
day to die with the meekness of Christians." Being peimitted to write to his
wife, and to the community of Toledo, the place of his nativitv, he addressed
the former with a manly and virtuous tenderness, and the latter with the
exultation natural to one who considered himself as a martyr for the liberties
of his country.^* After this, he submitted quietly to his fate. Most of the

»8 Sandov. 345, &c. P, Mart. Ep. 720. Miniana, Contin. p. 26. Epitome de la Vida
y Ilechos del Emper. Carlos V. per D. Juan. Anton, de Vera y Zuuiga, 4to. Madr. 1627,
p. 19.

^^ The strain of these letters is so eloquent and high-spirited, that I have translated
them for the entertainment of my readers : —

THE LETTER OF DON JOHK PADILLA TO HIS WIFE.

" Senora, — If your grief did not afflict me more than my own death, I should deem
myself perfectly happy. For the end of Hfe being certain to all men, the Almighty confers
a mark of distinguishing favour upon that person, for whom he appoints a death such as
mine, which, though lamented by many, is nevertheless acceptable unto him. It would
require more time than I now have, to write anything that could afford you consolation.
That my enemies will not grant me, nor do I wish to delay the reception of that crown
which I hope to enjoy. You may bewail your own loss, but not my death, which, being
so honourable, ought not to be lamented by any. My soul, for nothing else is left to me,
I bequeath to you. You will receive it, as the thing in this world which you value most.
I do not write to my father, Pero Lopez, because I dare not ; for though I have shown
myself to be his son in daring to lose my life, I have not been the heir of his good fortune.
I will not attempt to say anything more, that I may not tire the executioner, who waits
for me; and that I may not excite a suspicion, that, in order to prolong my life, I lengthen
out my letter. My servant Sosia, an eye-witness, and to whom I have communicated my
most secret thoughts, will inform you of what I cannot now write j and thus I rest, ex-
pecting the instrument of your grief, and of my deliverance."

HIS LETTER TO THE CITY OF TOLEDO.

" To thee, the crown of Spain, and the light of the whole world, free from the time of
the mighty Goths; to tbee, who, by shedding the blood of strangers, as well as thy own

BOOK III.j TOLEDO DEFENDED EY HIS ■WIDO^T. 173

Spanisli historians, accustomed to ideas of government and of regal power
very different from those upon whicli he acted, have been so eager to testify
tlicir disapprobation of the cause in which he was engaged, that they have
neglected, or have been afraid to do justice to his virtues, ana, by blackening
liis memory, have endeavoured to deprive him of that pity which is seldom
denied to illustrious sufferers.

The victorv at Yillalar proved as decisive as it was complete. Valladolid,
the most zealous of all the associated cities, opened its ga*,es immediately to
the conquerors, and being treated with great clemency by the regents. Meaina
del Campo, Segovia, and many other towns, followed its example. This
sudden dissolution of a confederacy, foimed not upon slight disgusts, or
upon trifling motives, into which the whole body of the people had entered,
and wliich had been allowed time to acquire a considerable degree of order
and consistence by establishing a regular plan of government, is the strongest
proof either of the inability of its leaders, or of some secret discord reigning
among its members. Though part of that army by which they had been sub-
dued was obliged, a few days after the battle, to march towards Navarre, in
order to cheek the progress of the Prench in that kingdom, nothing could
prevail on the dejected commons of Castile to take arms again, and to em-
brace such a favourable opportunity of acquiring those rights and privileges,
for which thev had appeared so zealous. The city of Toledo alone, animated
by Donna Maria Pacheco, Padilla's widow, who, instead of bewailing her
husband with a womanish sorrow, prepared to revenge his death, and to pro-
secute that cause in defence of which he had suffered, must be excepted.
Respect for her sex, or admiration for her courage and abilities, as well as
sjTnpathy with her misfortunes, and veneration for the memory of her hus-
band, secured her the same ascendant over the people whicti he had pos-
sessed. The prudence and vigour with which she acted, justified that con-
fidence they placed in her. She wrote to the Prench general in Navarre,
encouragiag him to invade Castile by the offer of powerful assistance. She
endeavouredj by her letters and emissaries, to revive the spirit and hopes of
the other cities. She raised soldiers, and exacted a great sum from the clergy
belonging to the cathedral, in order to defray the expense of keeping them on
foot.-** She employed every artifice that could interest or ioflame the popu-
lace. For this purpose she ordered crucifixes to be used by her troops instead
of colours, as if they had been at war with the infidels and enemies ol religion •
she marched through the streets of Toledo with her son, a young child, clad
in deep mourning, seated on a mule, having a standard carried before him,
representing the manner of his father's execution.-' By all these means she

t^ood, hast recovered liberty for thyself and thy neighbouring cities, th^ legitimate sec,
Juan de Padilla, gives information, how by the blood of his body thy ancient victories are
to be refreshed. If fate liath not permitted my actions to be placed among your suc-
cessful and celebrated exploits, the fault hath been in my ill fortune, not in my good will.
This I request of thee, as of a mother, to accept, since God hath given me nothing more
to lose for thy sake than that which I am now to relinquish. I am more solicitous about
thy good opinion than about my own hfe. The shiftings of fortune, which never stand
still, are many. But this I see with infinite consolation, that I, the least of thy childrMi,
suffer death for thee ; and that thou hast nursed at thy breasts such as may take ven-
geance for my wrongs. Many tongues will relate the manner of my death, of which I anj
still ignorant, though I know it to be near. My end will testify what was my desire.
My soul I recommend to thee, as to the patroness of Christianity. Of my body I say
nothing, for it is not mine. I can write nothing more, for at this very moment I leel the
knife at my throat, with greater dread of thy displeasure, than apprehension of my own
cam." — Sandov. Hist. vol. i. p. 478,

»> P. Mart. Ep. 727 ^i Sandov. 375.

174 SUEEENDER OF TOLEDO. I BOOK IH.

kept the minds of the people in such perpetual agitation as prevented their
passions from subsiding, and rendered them insensible of the dangers to
which they were exposed, by standing alone, ia opposition to the royal au-
thority. While the army was employed in Navarre, the regents were unable
to atterajpt the reduction of Toledo by force ; and all their endeavours, either
to diminish Donna Maria's credit with the people, or to gain her by large
promises and the solicitations of her brother, the Marquis de Mondeiar,
proved iaefFectual. Upon the expulsion of the French out of Navarre, part
of the army returned mto Castile, and invested Toledo. Even this made no
impression on the intrepid and obstinate courage of Donna Maria, She de-
fended the town with vigour ; her troops, in several sallies, beat the royalists ;
and no progress was made towards reducing the place, until the clergy,
whom she had highly offended by iiivadirig their property, ceased to support
her. As soon as they received information of the death of William de Croy,
archbishop of Toledo, whose possession of that see was then* chief grievance,
and that the emperor had named a Castilian to succeed him, they openly
turned against her, and persuaded the people that she had acquired such ia-
fluence over them by the force of enchantments ; that she was assisted by a
familiar demon, which attended her in the form of a negro maid ; and that by
its suggestions she regulated every part of her conduct.^- The credulous
multitude, whom their impatience of a long blockade, and despair of obtaining
succours either from the cities formerly in confederacy with them, or from the
French, rendered desirous of _ peace, took arms agaiast her, and, driving her
out of the citv, surrendered it ^ to the royalists. She retii'cd to the citadel,
which she defended with amazing fortitude four months longer ; and, when
reduced to the last extremities, she made her escape in disguise, and fled to
Portugal, where she had many relations.-'

Upon her flight, the citadel sun-eudered. Tranquillity was re-established
ia Castile ; and this bold attempt of the commons, like all unsuccessful insur-
rections, contributed to confirm and extend the power of the crown, which
it was intended to moderate and abridge. The cortes still continued to make
a part of the Castilian constitution, and was summoned to meet whenever the
king stood in need of rtioney ; but instead of adhering to their ancient and
cautious form of examining and redressing pubHc grievances, before they pro-
ceeded to grant any supply, the more courtly custom of voting a donative
in the first place was introduced, and the sovereign having obtained all that
he wanted, never aUowedthem to enter into anj^ inquiry, or to attempt any
reformation injurious to his authority. The privileges which the cities had
enjoyed were gradually circumscribed or abolished; their commerce began
from this period to decline ; and becoming less wealthy and less populous, they
lost that power and influence which they had acquired in the cortes.

While Castile was exposed to the calamities of civil war, the kingdom of
Valencia was torn byintestme commotions still more violent. The association
which had been formed in the city of Valencia in the year one thousand five
hundred and twenty, and which was distinguished by the name of the Ger-
manada, continued to subsist after the emperor's departure from Spain. The
members of it, upon pretext of defending the coasts against the descents of
the corsairs of Barbary, and under sanction of that permission, which Charles
had rashly granted them, refused to lay do^vn their arms. But as the grievances
which the Valencians aimed at redressing proceeded from the arrogance and
exactions of the nobility, rather than from any unwarrantable exercise of the
royal prerogative, their resentment turned chieflv against the former. As
soon as they were allowed the use of arms, sud became conscious of their

22 P. Mart. Ep. 727. 23 Sandov. 375- P. Mart. Ep. 754 Ferrer, viii. 363

BOOK ni.] TUMULTS IN VALENCIA AND AHAGON. 175

own strength, they ffrew impatient to take vengeance of their oppressors.
They drove the nobles out of most of the cities, plundered their houses,
wjistcd their lands, and assaulted their castles. They then proceeded to elect
thirteen persons, one from each company of tradesmen established at Valencia,
and committed the administration of government to them, under pretext that
thev would reform the laws, establish one uniform mode of dispensing justice,
without partiality or regard to the distinction of ranks, and thus restore men
to some degree of their original equality.

The nobles were obliged to take arms in self-defence. Hostilities began,
and were carried out with all the rancour with which resentment at oppression
inspired the one party, and tlie idea of insulted dignity animated tlie other.
As no person of honourable birth or of liberal education joined the Gennanada,
the councils as well as troops of the confederacy were conducted by low
mechanics, who acquired the confidence of an enraged multitude chiefly by
the fierceness of their zeal and the extravagance of their proceedings. Among
such men, the laws introduced in civilized nations, in order to restrain or
moderate the violence of war, were unknown or despised ; and they ran into
the wildest excesses of cruelty and outrage.

The emperor, occupied with suppressing the insurrection in Castile, which
more immediately threatened the subversion of his power and prerogative,
was unable to give much attention to the tumults in Valencia, and left the
nobility of that kingdom to fight their own battles. His viceroy, the Conde
de Melito, had the supreme command of the forces which the nobles raised
among the vassals. The Germanada can'ied on the war during the years one
thousand five hundred and twenty and twenty-one, with a more persevering
courage than could have been expected from a body so tumultuary under the
conduct of such leaders. They defeated the nobility in several actions, which,
though not considerable, were extremely sharp. They repulsed them in their
attempts to reduce dijfferent towns. But the nobles, by their superior skill in
war, and at the head of troops more accustomed to service, gained the ad-
vantage in most of the rencounters. At length they were joined by a body
of Castilian cavalry, which the regents despatched towards Valencia, soon
after their victory over Padilla at Villalar, and by their assistance the Va-
lencian nobles acquired such superiority that they entirely broke and ruined
the Germanada. The leaders of the party were put to death, almost without
any formality of legal trial, and suffered such cruel punishments as the sense
of recent injuries prompted their adversaries to inflict. The government of
Valencia was re-established in its ancient form,^*

In Aragon, violent symptoms of the same spirit of disaffection and sedition
which reigned in the other kingdoms of Spain, began to appear ; but by the
prudent conduct of the viceroy, Don John de Lanusa, they were so far com-
posed as to prevent their breaking out into any open insurrection. But, in
the island oi Majorca, annexed to the crown of Aragon, the same causes
which had excited the commotions in Valencia, produced effects no less
violent. The people, impatient of the hardships which they had endured
under the rigid jurisdiction of the nobility, took arms in a tumultuary manner
[1521] ; deposed their viceroy ; drove him out of the island ; and mas.sacred
every gentleman who was so unfortunate as to faU into their hands. The
obstmacy with which the people of Majorca persisted in their rebellion, was
equal to the rage with which tney began it. Many and vigorous efforts were
requisite in order to reduce them to obedience : and tranquillity was ?e-

" Argensola, Annales de Aragon, ch. 75, 90, 99, 118. Sayas, Annalcs de Aragon,
ch. 5, 12, &c. P. Mart. Ep. lib. xxxiii. et xxxiv. passim. Ferrer. Hist. d'Espagne, viii.
pp. 642, 664, &c

i

176 GENEROSITY OF THE EMPEROR. [bOOK III.

established in every part of Spain, before tbe Majorcans could be brought to
submit to their sovereign.-^

While the spirit of disaffection was so general among the Spaniards, and so
many causes concurred in precipitating them into sucli violent measures, in
order to obtain the redress of their grievances, it may appear strange, tliat
the malecontents in the different kingdoms should have carried on their
operations without any mutual concert, or even any intercourse with each
other. By uniting their councils and arms, they might have acted both with
greater force and with more effect. The appearance of a national confederacy
would have rendered it no less respectable among the people than formidable
to the crown ; and the emperor, unable to resist such a combination, must
have complied with any terms which the members of it should have thought
fit to prescribe. Many things, however, prevented the Spaniards from forming
themselves intp one body, and pursuing common measures. The people of
the differentkingdoms in Spain, though they were become the subjects of the
same sovereign, retained in full force theii- national antipathy to each other.
The remembrance of their ancient rivalship and hostilities was still lively, and
the sense of reciprocal injuries so strong as to prevent them from acting with
confidence and concert. Each nation chose rather to depend on its own efforts,
and to maintain the struggle alone, than to implore the aid of neighbours
whom they distrusted and hated. At the same time, the forms of government
in the several kingdoms of Spain were so different, and the grievances of which
they complained, as well as the alterations and amendments iu policy which
they attempted to introduce, so various, that it was not easy to bring them to
unite in an^ common plan. To this disunion Charles was indebted for the pre-
servation of the Spanish crowns ; and while each of the kingdoms followed
separate measures, they were all obliged at last to conform to the will of their
sovereign.

The arrival of the emperor in Spain filled his subjects who had been in
arms agamst him with deep apprehensions, from which lie soon delivered
them by an act of clemency, no less prudent than generous. After a re-
bellion so general, scarcely twenty persons, among 59 many criminals ob-
noxious to the law, had been punished capitally in Castile. Though strongly
solicited by his council, Charles refused to shed any more blood by the hands
of the executioner ; and published a general pardon, extending to all crimes
committed since the commencement of the insurrections, from which only
fourscore persons were excepted. Even these he seems to have named, rather
with an intention to intimidate others, than from any inclination to seize them ;
for when an officious courtier offered to infonn him where one of the most
considerable among them was concealed, he avoided it by a good-natured
pleasantry : "Go," says he, "I have novv no reason to be afraid of that man,
but he has some cause to keep at a distance from me ; and you would be
better employed in teUing him that I am here, than in acquainting me with
the place of his retreat."-'^ By this appearance of magnanimity, as well as by
his care to avoid everything which had disgusted the Castilians during his
former residence among them ; by his address in assuming their manners, in
speaking their language, and in complying with all their humours a,nd
customs, he acquired an ascendant over them which hardly any of their native
monarchs had ever attained, and brought them to support lum in all his en-
terprises with a zeal and valour to which he owed much of his success and
grandeur.^'

2s Argensola, Annales de Aragon, ch. 113. Ferrer. Hist. viii. p. 542. Savas, AnnaiCS
de Aragon, ch. 7, 11, 14, 76, 81. Ferreras, Hist. d'Espagne, viii. 679, &c., 609.

^ Sandoy. 377, &c. Vida del Emper. Carlos, por Don Juan Anton, de Vera y Zuniga,
p. 30. 2' Ulloa, Vita de Carlo V. d. 85

I

AOOK III.J POPE ADliIA^"'s PACU-IC POLICY. 177

About the time that Charles landed in Spain, Adrian se- out for Italy to
take possession of his new diguity. But though the Roman i)eople longed ex-
tremely for his arrival, they coiud not on his fu-st appearance conceal their
surprise and disappointment. After being aeeustomed to the princely magni-
ficence of Julius, and the elegant splendour of Leo, they beheld with contempt
an old mim of an humble deportment, of austere manners, an enemy to pomp,
destitute of taste in the arts, and unadorned with any of the external accom-
jplishments which the vulgar expect in those raised to eminent stations.*'
.^or did his political views and maxims seem less strange and astonishing to
the poutificiu. ministers. He acknowledged and bewailed the corruptions
vhicn abounded in the chui'ch, as well as in the court of Home, and prepai-ed
to reform both ; he discovered no intention of aggrandizing his family ; he
even sci-upled at retaining such territories as some of liis predecessors had
acquired bv violence or fraud, rather than by any legal title, and for that reason
he invested Francesco Maria de Rovere anew in the duchy of Urbino, of which
Leo had stripped him, and suiTcndered to the duke of Ferrai-a several places
wrested from him by the ehui'ch.^^ To men little habituated to see princes
regulate their conduct by the maxims of morality and the principles of justice,
these actions of the new pope appeared incontestable proofs of his weakness
or inexperience. Adrian, who was a perfect stranger to the complex and in-
tricate system of Italian polities, and who could place no confidence in persona
whose subtle refinements in business suited so ill with the natural simplicity
and candour of his own character, being often embarrassed and irresolute in
his deliberations, the opinion of his incapacity daily increased, until both his
person and government became objects of ridicule among his subjects.^"

Adrian, though devoted to the emperor, endeavoured to assume the impar-
tiality which became the common father of Christendom, and laboured to re-
concile the contending princes, in order that they might unite in a league
against Solyman, whose conquest of Rhodes rendered him more fonnidable
than ever to Europe.^^ But this was an undertaking far beyond his abiUties.
To examine such a variety of pretensions ; to adjust such a number of inter-
fering interests ; to extinguish the passions which ambition, emulation, and
mutual injuries had kindled ; to bring so many hostile powers to pursue the
same scheme -^dth unanimity and vigour, required not only uprightness of
intention, but great superiority both of understanding and address.

The Italian states were no less desii'ous of peace than the pope. The im-
perial army under Colonna was still kept on foot ; but as the emperor's re-
venues in Spain, in Naples, and in the Low Countries, were either exhausted
or applied to some otlier purpose, it depended entirelj^ for pay and sub-
sistence on the Italians. A great part of it was quartered in the ecclesiastical
state, and monthly contributions was levied upon the Florentines, the Mi-
lanese, the Genoese, and Lucchese, by the viceroy of Naples ; and though all
exclaimed against such oppression, and were impatient to be delivered from
it, the dread of worse consequences from the rage of the army, or the resent-
ment of the emperor, obliged them to submit.^-

[1523.] So much regard, however, was paid to the pope's exhortations, and
to a bull which he issued, requii-ing all Cliristian princes to consent to a truce
for three years, that the imperial, the French, and English ambassadors at
Rome, were empowered by their respective courts to treat of that matter; but
while they wasted their time in fruitless negotiations, their masters continued

[ 28 Guic. lib. XV. 238. Jovii Vita Adriani, 117. Bellefor. Epistr. des Princ. 8.
^ =3 Guic. lib. XV. p. 240-

30 Jov. Vita Adr. 118. P. Mart. Ep. 774. Ruscelli, Lettere de' Princ. vol. i. pp. 87,
&6, 101. 31 BeUefor. Epistr. p. 86. 32 Guic. lib. xv. p. 238.

N

178 CONSPIllACl Cf isO'JxiBON. [book HI.

their preparaticms for war. _ The Venetians, who had hitherto adhered with
great firmness to their alliance with Francis, being now convinced that his
affairs in Italy were in a desperate situation, entered into league against
hhn with the emperor ; to which Adrian, at tlie instigation of his countryman
and friend, Charles de Lannoy, viceroy of Naples, who persuaded him that
the only obstacles to peace arose from the ambition of the French king,
soon after acceded. The other Italian states followed their isxample ; and
Erancis was left without a single ally to resist the efforts of so many enemies^
whose armies threatened, and whose territories encompassed, his dominions
on every side.^

The oread of this powerful confederacy, it was thought, would have obliged
"irancis to keep whoUy on the defensive, or at least have prevented his
entertainuig any thoughts of marching into Italy. But it was the character
of that prince, too apt to become remiss and even negligent on ordinary oc-
casions, to rouse at the approach of danger, and not only to encounter it
with spirit and intrepidity, qualities which never forsook him, but to provide
against it with diligence and industry. Before his enemies were ready to
execute any of their schemes, Erancis had assembled a numerous army.
His authority over his own subjects was far greater than that which Charles
or Henry possessed over theirs. They depended on their diets, their cortes,
and their parliaments, for money, which was usually granted them in small
sums, very slowly, and with much reluctance. The taxes he could impose
were more considerable, and levied with greater despatch ; so that on this, as
well as on other occasions, he brought his armies into the field while they
were only devising ways and means for raising theirs. Sensible of this ad-
yantage, Erancis hoped to disconcert all the emperor's schemes, by marching
in person into the Milanese ; and this bold measure, the more formidable
because unexpected, could scarcely have failed of producing that effect. But
when the vanguard of his army had already reached Lyons, and he himself
was hastening after it with a second division of his troops, the discovery of a
domestic conspiracy, which threatened the ruin of the kingdom, obliged him
to stop short, and to alter his measures.

The author of this dangerous plot was Charles, duke of Bourbon, lord high
constable, whose noble birth, vast fortune, and high office, raised him to
be the most powerful subject in Erance, as his great talents, equally suited
to the field or the council, and his signal services to the crown, rendered him
the mpst illustrious and deserviag. The near resemblance between the king
and him ia many of their qualities, both being fond of war, and ambitious to
excel in manly exercises, as well as then* equality in age, and their proximity
of blood, ought naturally to have secured to him a considerable share in that
monarch's favour. But unhappily Louise, the king's mother, had contracted
a violent aversion to the house of Bourbon, for no better reason than because
Anne of Bretagne. the (jueen of Louis the Twelfth, with whom she lived in
perpetual enmity, bad discovered a peculiar attachment to that branch of the
royal family ; and had taught her son, who was too susceptible of any im-
pression which his mother gave him, to view all the constable's actions with
a mean and unbecoming jealousy. His distinguished merit at the battle of
Marignano had not been sufficiently rewarded ; he had been recalled fr9m
the government of Milan upon very frivolous pretences, and had met with
a cold reception, which his prudent conduct in that difficult station did not
deserve; the payment of his pensions had been suspended without any good
cause ; and, durmg the campaign of one thousand five hundred and twenty-
one, the kmg, as has already been related, had affronted him in presence

»» Guic. lib. sv. pp. 241, 246.

I

BOOK m.] CONSPIBACY OF BOURBON. 179

of the whole army, by giving the command of the van to the duke of Alcn^on.
The constable, at first, bore these indig^iities with greater moderation than
could have been expected from a high-spirited prince, conscious of what was
due to his rank and to his services. _ Such a multiplicitv of injui'ies, however,
exhausted his patience ; and, inspiring him with tlioughts of revenge, he re-
tired from court, and began to hold a secret oorresponaence with some of the
emperor's ministers.

About that time the duchess of Bourbon happened to die without leaving
anv children. Louise, of a disposition no less amorous than vindictive, and
still susceptible of the tender passions at the age of forty-six, began to view
the constable, a prince as amiable as he was accomplished, with other eyes ;
and notwithstanding the great disparity of their years, she formed the scheme
of marrying him. Boui-bou, who mi^ht have expected everything to which an
ambitious mind can aspire from the doting fondness of a woman who governed
her son and the kingdom, being incapable either of imitating the queen in her
sudden transition from hatred to love, or of dissembling so meanly as to pre-
tend aifection for one who had persecuted him so long with unprovoKcd
mahce, not only rejected the match, but embittered his refusal by some severe
raillery on Louise's person and character. She, finding herself not only con-
temned, but insulted, her disappointed love turned into hatred, and, since she
could not marry, she resolved to ruin Bourbon.

Eor tliis purpose, she consulted with the chancellor Du Prat, a man who,
by a base prostitution of great talents and of superior skill in his profession,
had_ risen to that high office. By his advice a lawsuit was commenced
against the constable, for the whole estate belonging to the house of Bourbon.
Part of it was clainied in the king's name, as having fallen to the crown;
part in that of Louise, as the nearest heir in blood of the deceased duchess.
Both these claims were equally destitute of any foundation in justice ; but
Louise, by her solicitations and authority, and Du Prat, by employing all
the artifices and chicanery of law, prevailed on the judges to order the estate
to be sequestered. This unjust decision drove the constable to despair, and to
measures which despair alone could have dictated. He renewed lus intrigues
in the imperial court, and, flattering himself that the injuries which he had
suffered would justify his having recourse to any means in order to obtain re-
venge, he offered to transfer his allegiance from his natural sovereign to the
emperor, and to assist him in the conquest of Prance. Charles, as well as the
king of England, to whom the secret was communicated,^* expecting prodi-
gious advantaf^es from his revolt, were ready to receive him with open arms,
and spared neither promises nor allurements which might help to confirm him
in his resolution. The emperor offered him in marriage his sister Eleanor, the
widow of the king of Portugal, with an ample portion. He was included as a
principal in the treaty between Charles and Henry. The counties of Provence
and Dauphine were to be settled on him, with the title of king. The em-

feror engaged to enter Prance by the PjTcnees, and Hemy, supported by the
lemings, to invade Picardy ; while twelve thousand Germans, levied at their
common charge, were to penetrate into Burgundy, and to act in concert with
Bourbon, who undertook to raise six thousand men among his friends and
vassals in the heai-t of the kingdom. The execution of this deep-laid and
dangerous plot was suspended, until the king should cross the Alps with the
only anny capable of detending his dominions ; and as he was far advanced m
his march for that purpose. Prance was on the brink of destruction."
Happily for that kingdom, a negotiation which had now been carrying on

'* Rymer's Feeder, xiii. p. 794.

" Thuani Hist. lib. i. ch. 10. Heuter. Ker. Austr. lib. viii. ch. 18, p. 207.
]r2

180 Francis's attack on milan, [book hi.

for several months, though conducted with the most profound secrecy, and
communicated only to a few chosen confidants, could not altogether escape
the observation of the rest of the constable's numerous retainers, rendered
more inquisitive by finding that they were distrusted. Two of these gave the
king some intimation of a mysterious correspondence between their master
and the Count de Roeux, a Memish nobleman of gi-eat confidence with the
emperor. Prancis, who could not bring himself to suspect that the first
prince of the blood would be so base as to betray the kingdom to its enemies,
immediately repaired toMoulins, where the constable was in bed, feigning
indisposition, that he might not be obliged to accompanjr the king into Italy,
and acquainted liim of the intelligence which he had received. Bourbon, with
great solemnity, and the most imposing affectation of ingenuity and candour,
asserted his own innocence ; and as his health, he said, was now more con-
firmed, he promised to join the army within a few days. Erancis, open and
candid himself, and too apt to be deceived by the appearance of those virtues
in others, gave such credit to what he said, that lie refused to arrest him,
although advised to take that precaution by his vdsest counsellors ; and, as if
the danger had been over, he continued his march towards Lyons. The con-
stable set out soon after, seemingly with an intention to follow him ; but
turning sudde»ly to the left he crossed the Rhone, and, after infim'te fatigue
and peril, escaped all the parties which the king, who became sensible too late
of his own credulity, sent out to intercept him, and reached Italy in safety.^^

Francis took every possible precaution to prevent the bad effects of the
irreparable error which he had committed. He i)ut garrisons in all the places
of strength in the constable's territories. He seized aU the gentlemen whom
he could suspect of being his associates ; and as he had not hitherto disco-
vered the whole extent of the conspirators' schemes, nor knew how far the
infection had spread among his subjects, he was afraid that his absence might
encourage them to make some desperate attempt, _ and for that reason relin-
quished his intention of leading his army in person into Italy.

He did not, however, abandon his design on the Milanese ; but appointed
Admiral Bonnivet to take the supreme command in his stead, and to march
into that country with an army thirty thousand strong. Bonnivet did not owe
this preferment to his abilities as a general ; for of all the talents requisite to
form a great commander, he possessed only personal courage, the lowest and
the most common. But he was the most accomplished gentleman in the
French com-t, of agreeable manners and insinuating address, and a sprightly
conversation; and Francis, who lived in great familiarity with his courtiers,
was so charmed with these qualities, that he honoured him on all occasions
with the most partial and distinguished marks of his favour. He was, besides,
the implacable enemy of Boui'bon ; and as the king hardly knew whom to trust
at that juncture, he thought the chief command could be lodged nowhere so
safely as in his hands.

Colonna, who was entrusted with the defence of the Milanese, his own con-
quest, was in no condition to resist such a formidable army. He was destitute
of money sufficient to pay his troops, which were reduced to a small number
by sickness or desertion, and had, for that reason, been obliged to neglect
every precaution necessary for the security of the country. The only plan
which he formed was, to defend the passage of the river Tessino against the
French ; and, as if he had forgotten how easily he himself had disconcerted a
similar scheme formed by Lantrec, he presunied ^yith great confidence on its
being effectual. But, in spite of all his caution, it succeeded no better with
him than with Lautrcc. Bonnivet passed the river without loss, at a ford

3« jVIem. de Bellay, p. 64, &c, Pasquier, Recherches de la France, p. 481.

I

BOOK III.] DEATH OV A.DRLVN. 181

which had been neglected, and the imperialists retired to Milan, preparing to
abandon the town as soon as the Trench should appear before it. By an im-
accoiintablc negligence which Gnicciardini imputes to infatuation,^ Bonniyet
did not advance for tlnee or four days, and lost the opportunity with which
his good fortune presented hun. The citizens recovered from their conster-
nation ; Colonna, still active at the age of fourscore, and Morone, wliose enmity
to France rendered iiim indefati.gabic, were employed night and day in repair-
ing the fortitications, in amassing proWsions, ni colleetmg troops from every
f^uarter ; and, by the time the French approached, had put the city in a condi-
tion to stand a siege. Bonnivet, after some fniitlcss attempts on the town,
which liarassed his own troops more than the enemy, was obliged, by the in-
clemency of the season, to retire into winter quarters.

During these transactions Pope Adrian died ; an event so much to the
satisfaction of the Roman people, whose hatred or contempt of him augmented
everv day, that the night after his decease they adorned the door of nis chief
physician's house with garlands, adding this inscription, to the deuvebjer
OP HIS couNTRY.^^ The Cardinal de Medici instantly renewed his pretensions
to the papal dignity, and entered tlie conclave with high expectations on his
own part, and a general opinion of the people, that they would be successful.
But though supported by the imperial faction, possessed of great personal
interest, and capable of all the artifices, refinements, and corruption, which
reign in those assembhes, the obstinacy and intrigues of his rivals protracted
the conclave to the unusual length of fifty days. The address and perse-
verance of the cardinal at last surmounted every obstacle. He was raised to
the head of the church, and assumed the government of it by the name of
Clement YII. The choice was universally approved of. High expectations
were conceived of a pope, whose great talents and long experience in busi-
ness seemed to qualify him no less for defending the spiritual interests of
the church, exposed to imminent danger by the progress of Luther's opinions,
than for conducting its political operations with the prudence requisite at
such a difiicult juncture ; and who, besides these advantages, rencfered the
ecclesiastical state more respectable, by having in his hands the government
of Florence, together with the wealth of the family of Medici.^^

^ Cardinal Wolsey, not disheartened by the disappointment of his ambitious
views at the former election, had entertained more sanguine hopes of success
on this occasion, Hemy wrote to the emperor reminding him of his engage-
ments to second the pretensions of his minister. Wolsey bestiiTcd himself
with activity suitable to the importance of the prize for which he contended,
and instructed his agents at Rome to spare neither promises nor bribes in
order to gain his end. But Charles had either amused him with vain hopes
which he never intended to gratify, or he judged it impolitic to oppose a can-
didate who had such a prospect of succeedmg as Medici ; or, perhaps, the
cardinals durst not venture to provoke tlie people of Rome, while their indig-
nation against Adrian's memory was still fresh, by placing another vlira-
viontaiic on the papal throne. tVolsey, after all his expectations and endea-
vours, had the mortification to see a pope elected of such an age, and of so
vigorous a constitution, that he could not derive much comfort to himself
from the chance of surviving him. This second proof fuUy convinced Wolsey
of the emperor's insincerity, and it excited in him all the resentment wliich a
haughty mind feels on being at once disappointed and deceived ; and though
Clement endeavoured to soothe his vindictive nature by granting him a com-
mission to be legate in England during Hfe^ with such ample powers as
vested in him almost the whole papal juiisdiction in that kingdx)m, the injury

Guic. Ub. XVI. T). 254. » Jovii Vit. Adr. 127. " Guic. lib. xv. p. 2G3,

182 END OP THE CAMPAIGN. [bOOK III.

he had now rc-ceived made such an impression as entirely dissolved the tie
which had united him to Charles, and from that moment he meditated re-
venge. It was necessary, however, to conceal his intention from his master,
and to suspend the execution of it, until, bv a dexterous improvement of the
incidents which might occur, he should be able gradually to alienate the king's
alTections from the emperor. Eor this reason he was so far from_ expressing
any uneasiness on account of the repulse which he had met with, that he
abounded on every occasion, private as well as public, in declarations of his
high satisfaction with Clement's promotion.^*'

Henry had, during the campaign, fulfilled with great sincerity whatever
he was bound to periqnn by the league against France, though more slowly
than he could have wished. His thoughtless jDrofusion, and total neglect of
economy, reduced him often to great straits for money. The operations of
war were now earned on in Europe in a manner very different Irom that
which had long prevailed. Instead of armies suddenly assembled, which under
distinct chieftains followed their prince into the field for a short space, and
served at their own cost, troops were now levied at great charge, and re-
ceived regularly considerable pay. Instead of impatience on both sides to
bring every quarrel to the issue of a battle, which commonly decided the fate
of open countries, and allowed the barons, together with their vassals, to
return to their ordinary occupations, towns were fortified with great art, and
defended with much obstinacy ; war, from a very simple, became a very in-
tricate science ; and campaigns grew, of course, to be more tedious and less
decisive. The expense which these alterations in the military system neces-
sarily created, appeared intolerable to nations hitherto unaccustomed to the
burden of heavy taxes. Hence proceeded the frugal and even parsimonious
spirit of the English parliaments in that age, which Henry, with all his au-
thority, was seldom able to overcome. The commons having refused at this
time to grant him the supplies which he demanded, he had recourse to the
ample and almost imlimited prerogative which the kings of England then
possessed, and, by a violent and unusual exertion of it, raised the money he
wanted. _ This, however, wasted so much time, that it was late in the season
before his army, under the duke of Sufi'olk, could take the field. Being joined
by a considerable body of Elemings, Suffolk marched into Picardy; and
Erancis, from his extravagant eagerness to recover the Milanese, having left
that frontier almost unguarded, he i^enetrated as far as the banks of the river
Oyse, within eleven leagues of Paris, filling that capital with consteniation.
But the arrival of some troops detached by the king, who was still at Lyons ;
the active gallantry of the Irench officers, who allowed the allies no respite
night or day ; the rigour of a most umiatural season, together with scarcity
of provisions, compelled Suffolk to retire; and La Tramomlle, who com-
manded in those parts, had the glory not only of having checked the pro-
gress of a formidable army with a handful of men, but of driving them with
ignominy out of the Erencli territories.*'

The emperor's attempts upon Burgundy and Guienne were not more for-
tunate, though in both these provinces Erancis was equally ill prepared to
resist them. The conduct and valour of his generals supplied nis want of fore-
sight ; the Germans, who made an irruption into one ot these provinces, and
the Spaniards, who attacked the other, were repulsed with great disgrace.

Thus ended the year 1523, during which Erancis's good fortune and suceesa
had been such as gave all Europe a high idea of his power and resources.
He had discovered and disconcerted a dangerous conspiracy, the author of

*» Fiddes's Life of Wolsey, 294, &c. Herbert.
<» Herbert. Mdm. de Bellay, 73, &c.

BOOK III. J THE FEENCH ABANDON THE MILANESE. 183

which he had driven into exile almost without an attendant : he had rendered
abortive all the schemes of the powerful confederacy formed against him ; he
had protected his dominions when attacked on three difierent sides ; and,
though his armv in the Milanese had not made such progress as might have
been expected from its superiority to the enemy in number, he had recovered,
and still kept possession of, one -half of that duchy.

[1524.] The ensuing year opened with events more disastrous to France.
Foutarabia was lost by the cowardice or treachery of its governor. In Italy,
the allies resolved on an early and vigorous effort, in order to dispossess Bon-
nivet of that part of the ^Milanese which lies beyond the Tessino. Clement,
who, under the pontificates of Leo and Adrian, had discovered an implacable
enmity to France, be^an now to view the power which the emperor was daily
acquiring in Italy with so much jealousy, that he refused to accede, as his
predecessors had done, to the league _ against Francis, and, forgetting private
passions and animosities, laboured with the zeal which became his character,
to bring about a reconciliation among the contending parties. But all Ids
endeavours were ineffectual ; a numerous army, to which each of the allies
furnished their contingent of troops, was assembled at !Milan by the begiiming
of March. Lannoy, viceroy of Naples, took the command of it upon Co-
lonua's death, though the chief direction of military operations was com-
mitted to Bourbon and the Marquis de Pescara, the latter the ablest and
most enterprising of the imperial generals ; the former inspired by his resent-
ment with new activity and invention, and acquainted so thoroughly with
the characters of the French commanders, the genius of their troops, and the
strength as well as weakness of their armies, as to be of infinite service to
the party which he had joined. But all these advantages were nearly lost
through the emperor's inability to raise money sufiicient for executing the
various and extensive plans which he had formed. When his troops were
commanded to march, they mutinied against their leaders, demanding the pay
which was due to them for some months • and, disregarding both the menaces
and entreaties of theirotficers, threatened to pillage the city of Milan, if they
did not instantly receive satisfaction. Out of this difficulty the generals of
the allies were extricated by Morone, who prevailing on his countrymen, over
whom his influence was prodigious, to advance the sum that was requisite,
the army took the field."

Bonmvet was destitute of troops to oppose this army, and still more of
the talents which could render hun an equal match for its leaders. After
various movements _ and encounters, described with great accuracy by the
contemjporaiy historians, a detail of which would now be equally uninteresting
and munstructive, lie was forced to abandon the strong camp in which he had
entrenched himself at Biagrassa. Soon after, partly by his own misconduct,
partly by the activity of the enemy, who harassed and ruined his army by
continual skirmishes, while they carefully declined a battle, which he often
offered them; and partly by the caprice of 6,000 Swiss, who refused to join
his army, though within a day's march of it ; he was reduced to the necessity
of attempting a retreat into France through the valley of Aost, Just as he
arrived on the banks of the Sessia, and began to pass tliat river, Bourbon and
Pescara appeared with the vanguard of the allies, and attackea his rear with
great fury. At the beginning of the charge, Bonnivet, while exerting himself
with much valour, was wounded so dangerously that he was obh^ea to quit
the field ; and the conduct of the rear was committed to the Chevaher Bayard,
who, though so much a stranger to the arts of a court, that he never rose to
the chief command, was always called, in times of real danger, to the post of

« Guic. lib. XV. p. 267. Capella, 190.

184! LUTIIES TEAXSLATES TIIE BIBLE. [eOOK III.

greatest difficulty and importance. He put liiraself at tlie head of the men-
at-arms, and animating them by his presence and example to sustain the whole
shock of the enemy's troops, he gained time for the rest of his countrymen
to make good their retreat. But in this semce he received a wound which
he immediately perceived to be mortal, and being unable to continue any
longer on horseback, he ordered one of his attendants to place him under a
tree, with his face towards the enemy ; then fixing his eyes on the guard of
his sword,_ which he held up instead of a cross, he addressed his prayers to
God, and in this posture, which became his character both as a soldier and
as a Christian, he calmly awaited the approach of death. Bourbon, who led
the foremost of the enemy's troops, found him in tins situation, and ex-
pressed regret and pity at the sight. " Pity not me," cried the high-spirited
chevalier ; " I die as a man of honour ought, in the discharge of my duty :
they indeed are objects of pity who fight against their king, their country,
and their oath." The Marquis de Pescara, passing soon after, manifested
his admiration of Bayard's virtues, as well as his sorrow for his fate, with the
generosity of a gallant enemy ; and, finding that he could not be removed
with safety from that spot, ordered a tent to be pitched there, and appointed
proper persons to attend him. He died, notwithstanding their care, as his
ancestors for several generations had done, in the field of battle. Pescara
ordered his body to be embalmed, and sent to his relations ; and such was
the respect paid to military merit in that age, that the duke of Savoy com-
manded it to be received with royal honours in all the cities of his dominions :
-in Dauphine, Bayard's native country, the people of all ranks came out in a
solemn procession to meet it.*^

Bonnivet led back the shattered remains of his army into Prance ; and in one
short campaign Prancis was stripped of all he had possessed in Italy, and left
without one aUy in that country.

While the war, kindled by the emulation of Charles and Prancis, spread
over so many countries of Europe, Germany enjoyed a profound tranquillity,
extremely favoui-able to the reformation, which continued to make progress
daily. During Luther's confinement in his retreat at Wartburg, Carlo-
stadius, one of his disciples, animated with the same zeal, but possessed
of less prudence and moderation than his master, began to propagate wild and
dangerous opinions, chiefly among the lower people. Encouraged by his ex-
hortations, they rose in several villages of Saxony, broke into the churches
with tumultuary violence, and threw down and (destroyed the images with
which they were adorned. Those irregular and outrageous proceediugs were
so repugnant to all the elector's cautious maxims, that, if they had not re-
ceived a timely check, they could hardly have failed of alienating from the re-
formers a prince, no less jealous of his own authority, than afraid of giving
offence to the emperor, and other patrons of the ancient opinions. [1522.]
Luther, sensible of the danger, immediately quitted his retreat, without
waiting for Prederie's permission, and returned to Wittemberg. Happily for
the reformation, the veneration for his person and authority was still so

freat, that his appearance alone suppressed that spirit of extravagance which
egan to seize his party. Carlostadius and liis fanatical followers, struck
dumb by his rebukes, submitted at once, and declared that they heard the
voice of an angel, not of a man.*'*

Before Luther left his retreat he had begun to translate the Bible into
the German tongue, an undertaking of no less difficulty than importance, of
"which he was extremely fond, and for which he was well qualified. He had a

« Bellefor. Epistr. p. 73. M^m. de Bellay, p. 75. (Euv. de Brant, torn. vi. p. 108, &c.
Pasquier, Recherches, p. 626. « Sleid. Hist. 61. Seckend. 195.

I

I

BOOK III.] THE REFORMATION IW GE«MANY. 185

oompetent knowledge of the original languages ; a tliorougli acquaintance
with the style and sentiments of the inspired writers ; and tliough his com-
positions in Latin were nide and barbarous, he was reckoned a gi-eat master
of the purity of his mother tongue, and could express himself with all the
elegance of which it is capable. By his own assiduous application, together
with the assistance ef Melancthon and several other of his Qiseii)les, he finished
part of the New Testament in the year 1522 ; and the publication of it proved
more fatal to the church of Rome than that of all his own works. It was
read with wouderfid avidity and attention by persons of every rank. They
were astonished at discovering how contrary the precepts of the author of
our religion are to the inventions of those priests who pretended to be his
vicegerents ; and having now in their hand the rule of faith, they thought
themselves qualified, by applying it, to judge of the established opinions, and
to pronounce when they were confonnable to the standard, or when they de-
parted from it. The great advantages arising from Luther's translation of the
!Bible encouraged the advocates for reformation, in the other countries of
Europe, to imitate his example, and to publish versions of the Scriptures
in their respective languages.

About this time, Nureniberg, Frankfort, Hamburgh, and several other free
cities ia Germany, of the first rank, openly embraced the reformed religion,
and by the authority of their magistrates abolished the mass, and the other
superstitious rites of popery.*^ The elector of Brandenburgh, the dukes of
Brunswick and Lunenburgh, and prince of Anhalt, became avowed patrons oi
Luther's opinions, and countenanced the preaching of them among their
subjects.

The court of Rome beheld this growing defection with great concern ; and
Adrian's first care, after his arrival in Italy, had been to deliberate with the
cardinals concerning the proper means of putting a stop to it. He was
profoundly skilled in scholastic theology, and having been early celebrated
on that account, he still retained such an excessive admiration of the science
to which he was first icdebted for liis reputation and success in. life, that he
considered Luther's invectives against the schoolmen, particularly Thomas
Aquinas, as little less than blasphemy. All the tenets of that doctor appeared
to nim so clear and irrefragable, that he supposed every i)erson who called in
question or contradicted them, to be either blinded by ignorance, or to be
acting in opposition to the conviction of his own mind. Of course, no pope
was ever more bigoted or inflexible with regard to points of doctrine than
Adrian ; he not only maintained them as Leo had done, because they were
ancient, or because it was dangerous for the church to allow of innovations,
but he adhered to them with the zeal of a theologian, and with the tenacious-
ness of a disputant. At the same time, his own maimers being extremely
simple, and uninfected with any of the vices which reigned in the court of
Rome, he was as sensible of its corruptions as the reformers themselves, and
viewed them with no less indignation. The brief which he addressed to the
diet of the empire assembled at Nuremberg, and the instructions which he
gave Cheregato, the nuncio whom he sent thither, were framed agreeably
to these views. On the one hand, he condemned Luther's opinions with more
asperity and rancour of expression than Leo had ever used; he severely
censured the princes of Gennany for suffering him to spread his pernicious
tenets, by their neglecting to execute the edict of the diet at Worms, and
required them, if Luther did not instantly retract his errors, to destroy him
with fire as a gangrened and incurable member, in like manner as Dathan and
Abiram had been cut off by Moses, Ananias and Sapphira by the apostles, and

** Seckend. 241. Chytixi Contin. Krantzii, 203.

186 THE DIET or XUKEMBERG. [BOOK III.

John Huss and Jerome of Prague by theii' ancestors.** On the other hand,
he, with great candour, and in the most explicit terms, acknowledged the
corruptions of the Roman court to be the source from which had flowed most
of the evils that the church now felt or dreaded ; he promised to exert aR his
authority towards reforming these abuses, with as much despatch as the
nature and inveteracy of the disorders would admit ; and he requested of
them to give him their advice with regard to the most effectual means of
suppressing that new heresy which had sprung up among them.*'

The members of the diet, after praising the pope's pious and laudable
intentions, excused themselves for not executing the edict of Worms, by
alleging that the prodigious increase of Luther's followers, as well as the
aversion to the court of Rome among their other subjects on account of its
innumerable exactions, rendered such an attempt not only dangerous, but im-
possible. They affirmed that the grievances of Germany, which did not arise
Irom imaginary injuries, but from impositions no less real than intolerable,
as his holiness would learn from a catalogue of them which they intended to
Isij before him, called now for some new and efficacious remedy; and, in their
opinion, the only remedy adequate to the disease, or which afforded them any
hopes of seeing the church restored to soundness and vigour, was a general
council. Such a council, therefore, they advised him, after obtaining the
emperor's consent, to assemble, without delay, in one of the great cities of
Gei-many, that all who had right to be present might deliberate with freedom,
and j)ropose their opinions with such boldness as the dangerous situation
of religion at this junction required,*^

The nuncio, more artful than his master, and better acquainted with the
political views and interests of the Roman court, was startled at the propjosi-
tion of a council, and easily foresaw how dangerous such an assembly might
prove, at a time when many openly denied the papal authority, and the
reverence and submission yielded to it visibly declined among all. Tor that
reason, he employed his utmost address in order to prevail on the members
of the diet to proceed themselves with greater severity against the Lutheran
heresy, and to relinquish their proposal concerning a general council to
be held in Germany. They, perceiving the nuncio to be more solicitous
about the interests of the Roman court, than the tranquillity of the empire,
or purity of the church, remained inflexible, and continued to prepare the
catalogue of their grievances to be presented to the pope.*^ The nuncio,
that he might not be the bearer of a remonstrance so disagreeable to his
coiu't, left Nui-emberg abioiptly, without taking leave of the diet.^"

The secular princes accordin^-ly, for the ecclesiastics, although they gave
no opposition, did not think it decent to join with them, drew up the list (so
famous in the German annals) of a hundred grievances, which the empire
imputed to the iniquitous dominion of the papal see. This list contamed
grievances much of the same nature with that prepared under the reign of
Maximilian. It would be tedious to enumerate each of them; they com-
plained of the sums exacted for dispensations, absolutions, and indulgences ;
of the expense arising from the lawsuits carrieu. by appeal to Rome ; of the in-
numerable abuses occasioned by reservations, commendams, and annates; of
the exemption from civil jurisdiction which the clergy had obtained ; of the
arts hj which they brought all secular causes under the cognisance of the
ecclesiastical judges ; of the indecent and profligate lives which not a few of
the clergy led ; and of various other particulars, many of wliich have already
been mentioned among the circumstances that contributed to the favourablfi

*6 Fascic. Rer. expet. et fugiend. p. 342. *'' Ibid. p. 345.

*8 Ibid. p. 346. " Ibid. p. 349. «o Ibid. p. 376.

BOOK III. J CONDUCT OF ADRIAN. 187

reception, or to ilie quick progress, of Luther's doctrines. In tlie end they
concluded, that if the holy see did npt speedily deliver them from these
intolerable burdens, they had determined to endure them no longer, and
would employ the power and authority with which God had entrusted them in
order to procure relief.*'

[1523.] Instead of such severities against Lutlier and his followers as the
nuncio had recommended, the recess, or edict of the diet, contained only a ge-
noral injimction to all ranks of men to wait with patience for the determina-
tions of the council which was to be assembled, and in the meantime not
to publish any new (opinions contrary to the established doctrines of the
church ; together with an admonition to all preachers to abstain from matters
of controversy in their discourses to the people, and to confine themselves to
the plain and instructive truths of religion."

The reformers derived gi-eat advantage from the transactions of this diet,
as they afforded them the fullest and most authentic evidence that gross cor-
ruptions prevailed in the court of Rome, and that the empire was loaded by
the clergy -with insupportable burdens. With regard to the former, they
had now the testimony of the pope himself, that their invectives and accusa-
tions were not malicious or iU founded. As to the latter, the representatives
of the Germanic body, in an assembly where the patrons of the new opinions
were far from being the most numerous or powerfui, had pointed out as the
chief grievances of the empire those very practices of the Romish church
against which Luther and his disciples were accustomed to declaim. Accord-
ingly, in all their controversial writings after this period, they often appealed
to Adrian's declaration, and to the hundred grievances, in confiimation ot
whatever they advanced concerning the dissolute manners, or insatiable
ambition and rapaciousness, of the papal court.

At Rome, Adrian's conduct was considered as a proof of the most childish
simplicity and imprudence. Men trained ui) amidst the artifices and corrup-
tions of the papal court, and accustomed to judge of actions not by what was
just, but by wnat was useful, were astonished at a pontiff, who, departing
from the wise maxims of his predecessors, acknowledged disorders which he
ought to have concealed ; and, forgetting his own dignity, asked advice of
those to M^hom he was entitled to prescribe. By such an excess of impolitic
sinceritv, they were afraid that, instead of reclaiming the enemies of the church,
he would render them more presumptuous, and, instead of extinguishing
heresy, would weaken the foundations of the papal power, or stop the chief
sources from which wealth flowed into the church.^^ For this reason, the
cai'dinals and other ecclesiastics of greatest eminence in the papal court, in-
dustriously opposed all his schemes of reformation, and by throwing objec-
tions and difficulties in his way, endeavoui-ed to retard or to defeat the
execution of them. Adrian, amazed, on the one hand, at the obstinacy of the
Lutherans, disgusted, on the other, with the manners and maxims of the Ita-
lians, and findmg himself unable to correct either the one or the other, often
lamented his own situation, and often looked back with pleasure on that
pei'iod of his life when he was only dean of Louvain, a more humble but
happier station, in which little was expected from him, and there was nothing
to frustrate his good intentions.^*

Clement VII., his successor, excelled Adrian as much in the arts of govern-
ment as he was inferior to him in purity of life or uprightness of intention.
He was animated not only with the aversion which all popes naturally bear

*i Fascic. Eer. espct. et fugiend. 354. " jbid. p. 348.

" F. Paul, Hist, of Counc. p. 28. Pallavic. Hist. p. 58.
" Jovu Vlt. Adr. p. 118.

188 CLEMEXT's measures against LUTHER. [BOOK IIL

to a council, but liavinj? gained Ms own election hy means ver/ uncanonical,
he was afraid of an assembly that might subject it to a scrutiny which it
could not stand. He determined, therefore, by every possible means, to
elude the demands of the Germans, both with respect to the calling of a
council,_ and_ reforming abuses in the papal court, which the rashness and
incapacity^ of his predecessor had brought upon Mm. For this purpose he
made choice of Cardinal Campeggio, an artml man, often entrusted by Ms
predecessors with negotiations of importance, as Ms nuncio to the diet of
the empire, assembled again at Nuremberg.

Campeggio, without taking any notice of what had passed in the last meet-
ing, e£horted the diet, in a long discourse, to execute the edict of Worms
with vigour, as the only_ effectual means of suppressmg Luther's doctrines.
The diet, in return, desired to know the pope's intentions concerning the
council, and the redress of the hundred grievances. The fomier the nuncio
endeavoured to elude by general and unmeaning declarations of the pope's
resolution to pursue such measures as would _ be for the greatest good of
the church. With regard to the latter, as Adrian was dead before the cata-
logue of grievances reached Rome, and, of consequence, it had not been re-
gularly laid before the present pope, Campeggio took advantage of this
circumstance to decline making any definitive answer to them in Clement's
name ; though, at the same time, he observed that their catalogue of griev-
ances contained many particulars extremely indecent and undutiful, and that
the publishing it by their own authority was higMy disrespectful to the
Roman see. In the end, he renewed his demand of their proceeding with
vigour against Luther and Ms_ adherents. But though an ambassador from the
emperor, who was at that time very solicitous to gain the pope, warmly
seconded the nuncio, with many professions of his master's zeal for the honour
and digmty of the papal see, the recess of the diet was conceived in terms
of ahnost the same import with the former, without enjoining any additional
severity against Luther and his party.^_^

Before he left Germany, Campeggio, in order to amuse and soothe the
people, published certain articles for the amendment of some disorders and
abuses which prevailed among the uiferior clergy ; but this partial refor-
mation, which fell so far short of the expectations of the Lutherans, and of
the demands of the diet, gave no satisfaction, and produced little effect.
The nuncio, with a cautious hand, tenderly lopped a few branches ; the Ger-
mans aimed a deeper blow, and, by striking at the root, wished to extermhiate
the evil.^*'

« Seckend. 286. Sleid. Hist. 66. ^ Seckend. 292.

BOOK IV. 1 CHAKLES B£&OLVES TO INVADE TRANCE. 189

U

BOOK IV.

Views of the Italijin States respecting Charles and Francis — Charles invades France with-
out Success— Francis invades the Milanese — He besieges Pavia — Neutrality of the
Pope — Francis attacks Naples — Movements of the Imperial Generals — Battle of Pavia
— Francis taken Prisoner — Schemes of the Emperor — Prudence of Louise the Regent
— Conduct of Henry VIIL, and of the Italian Powers — The Emperor's rigorous Terms
to Francis — Francis carried to Spain — Henry makes a Treaty with the Regent Louise
— Intrigues of Morone in Milan — He is betrayed by Pescara — Treatment of Francis
— Bourbon made General and Duke of Milan — Treaty of Madrid — Liberation of
Francis — Charles marries Isabella of Portugal — Affairs iu Germany — Insurrections —
Conduct of Luther — Prussia wrested from the Teutonic Knights — Measures of Francis
upon reaching his Kingdom — A League against the Emperor — Preparations for War —
The Colonnas Masters of Rome — The Pope detached from the Holy League— Position
of the Emperor — Bourbon marches towards the Pope's Ten-itories — Negotiations —
Assault of Rome — Bourbon slain — The City taken and plundered — The Pope a Prisoner
— Hypocrisy of the Emperor — Solyman invades Hungary — Ferdinand, Archduke of
Austria, becomes King of Hungary — Progress of the Reformation.

[1524.] The expulsion of the French, both out of the Milanese and the
repubhc of Genoa, ^vas considered by the Italians as the termination of the
war between Charles and Eraucis ; and as they began immediately to be ap-
prehensive of the emperor, when they saw no power remaining in Italy
capable either to control or oppose liim, they longed ardently for the re-
estabhshment of peace. Having procured the restoration of Sforza to his
j^atemal dominions, which had been their chief motive for entering into con-
lederacy with Charles, they plainly discovered their intention to contribute
no longer towards increasmg the emperor's superiority over his rival,
which was ah-eady become the object of theii- jealousy. Tfie pope especially,
whose natural timidity increased his suspicions of Charles's designs, endea-
voured by his remonstrances to inspire him with moderation, and incline him
to peace.

But the emperor, intoxicated with success, and urged on by his own
ambition, no less than by Bourbon's desire of revenge, contemned Clement's
admonitions, and declared his resolution of ordering his army to pass the
Alps, and to invade Provence, a part of his rival's dominions, where, as he
least dreaded an attack, he was least prepared to resist it. His most ex-
perienced ministers dissuaded him from undertaking such an enterprise
with a feeble army and an exhausted treasury ; but he relied so much on
having obtained the concurrence of the king of England, and on the hopes
which Bourbon, with the confidence and credulity natural to exiles, enter-
tained of being joined by a numerous body of his partisans as soon as the
imperial troops should enter Trance, that he persisted obstinately in the
measure. Henry undertook to furnish a hundred thousand ducats towards
defraving the expense of the expedition during the first month, and had it in
his choice either to continue the payment of tnat sum montlily, or to invade
Picardy before the end of July with an army capable of acting with vigour.
The emperor engaged to attack Guienne at the same time with a consider-
able body of men ; and if these enterprises proved successful, they agreed that

190 PRECAUTIONS OF rRANCIS. fBOOE IV.

Bourbon, besides the territories wliich he bad lost, should be put in posses-
sion of Provence, with the title of king, and should do homage to Henry, as
the lawful king of France, for his new dominions. Of all the parts of this
extensive but extravagant project, the invasion of Provence was tlie only one
which was executed. Por, although Bourbon, with a scmpulous delicacy, al-
together unexpected after the part which he had acted, positively refused to
acknowledge Henry's title to tlie cro^Ti of Prance, and thereby absolved him
from any obligation to promote the enterprise, Charles's eagerness to carry-
ids own plan into execution did not in any degree abate. The army which
he employed for that purpose amounted only to eighteen thousand men, the
command of which was given to the Marquis de Pescara, with instructions
to pay the greatest deference to Bourbon's advice in all His operations.
Pescara passed the Alps without opposition, and, entering Provence, laid
siege to Marseilles. Bourbon had advised him rather to march towards
Lvons, in the neighbourhood of which city his territories were situated, and
where, of course, his influence was most extensive • but the emperor was so
desirous to get possession of a port, which would at all times secure liim
an easy entrance into Prance, that, by his authority, he overruled the con-
stable's opinion, and directed Pescara to make the reduction of Marseilles
his chief object.^

Prancis, who foresaw, but was unable to prevent this attempt, took the
most proper precautions to defeat it. He laid waste the adjacent country,
in order to render it more difficult for the enemy to subsist their army ;
he razed the suburbs of the citv, strengthened its fortifications, and threw
into it a numerous garrison, under the command of brave and experienced
officers. To these, nine thousand of the citizens, whom their dread of the
Spanish yoke inspired with contempt of danger, joined themselves ; bv their
united courage and industry, all the efforts of Pescara's military skill, and
of Bourbon's activity and revenge, were rendered abortive. Prancis, mean-
while, had leisure to assemble a powerful army under the walls of Avignon,
and no sooner began to advance towards Marseilles, than the imperial troops,
exhausted by the fatigues of a siege which had lasted forty days, weakened by
diseases, and almost destitute of provisions, retired with precipitation towards
Italy.2

If, during these operations of the army in Provence, either Charles or Henry
had attacked Prance in the manner which they had projected, that kingdom
must have been exposed to the most imminent danger. But on this, as well
as on many other occasions, the emperor found that the extent of his revenues
was not adequate to the greatness of his schemes, or the ardour of his am-
bition, and the want of money obliged him, though with much reluctance, to
circumscribe his plan, and to leave ^art of it unexecuted. Henry, disgusted
at Bourbon's refusing to recognise his right to the crown of Prance ; alarmed
at the motions of the Scots, whom the solicitations of the Prench king had
persuaded to march towards the borders of England ; and no longer incited
by his minister, who was become extremely cool with regard to aU the em-
peror's interests, took no measures to support an enterprise of which, as of
all new undertakings, he had been at first excessively fond.='

If the king of Prance had been satisfied with having delivered his subjects
from this formidable invasion ; if he had thought it enough to show all Europe
the facility with which the internal strength of his dominions enabled him to
resist the invasions of a foreign enemy, even when seconded by the abilities

1 Guic. lib. XV. p. 273, &c. Mem. de Bellay, p. 80.

2 Guic. lib. XV. p. 277. Ullca, Vita di Carlo V. p. 93.

3 Fiddes's Life of Wolsey, Append. No. 70 71, 72.

I

BOOK IV.] HE RESOLVES TO IJIVADE ITALY. 191

and powerful efforts of a rebellious subjeet, the campaign, uotwithstandiug
the loss of the Milanese, would have been far from ending ingloriously. But
Praneis, animated with courage more becoming a soldier than a general,
pushed on by ambition, enterprising rather than considerate, and too apt to
be elated with success, was fond of every undertaking that seemed bokl and
adventurous. Such an undertaking, the situation of his aiiairs at that junctui-e
naturallv presented to his view. He had under his command one of the most
powerful and best-appointed annics France had ever brought into the field,
wliich he could not think of disbanding without having employed it in any
active service. The imperial troops had been obliged to retire, almost ruined
bv hard duty, and disheartened with ill success ; the Milanese had been left
altogether without defence ; it was not impossible to reach that country before
Pescara, with his shattered forces, could arrive there ; or, if fear should add
speed to their retreat, they were in no condition to make head against his
fresh and numerous troops ; and Milan would now, as in former instances,
submit, without resistance, to a bold invader. These considerations, which
were not destitute of plausibility, appeared to his sanguine temper to be ot
the utmost weight. In vain did his wisest ministers and generals represent
to him the danger of taking the field, at a season so far advanced, with an
army composed chiefly of Swiss ana Gennans, to whose caprices he would
be subject in all his operations, and on whose fidelity his safety must abso-
lutely depend. In vain did Louise of Saxony advance by hasty journeys to-
wards Provence, that she might exert all her authority in dissuading her son
from such a rash enterprise. Francis disregarded the remonstrances of his
subjects ; and that he might save liimself the pain of an interview with his
mother^ whose counsels he had determined to reject, he began his march before
her arrival, appointing her, however, by way of atonement for that neglect, to
be regent of the kingdom duruig his absence. Bonnivet, by his persuasions,
contributed not a little to confii-m Francis in this resolution. That favourite,
who strongly resembled his master in all the defective parts of his character,
was led, by his natural impetuosity, warmly to approve of such an enterprise ;
and being prompted besicfes by his impatience to visit a ISIilanese lady, of
whom he had been deeply enamoured during his late expedition, he is saicl, by
his flattering descriptions of her beautv and accomplishments, to have inspired
Francis, who was extremely susceptible of such passions, with an equal desire
of seeino^ her.*

The French passed the Alps at Mount Cenis ; and as their success depended
on despatch, tney advanced with the greatest diligence. Pescara, who had
been obligea to take a longer and more difficult route bv Monaco and Final,
was soon informed of their intention ; and being sensible that nothing but
the presence of his troops could save the Milanese, marched with such
rapidity, that lie reached Alva on the same day_ that the French army ar-
rived at YerceEi. Francis, instructed by Bonnivet's error in the former
campaign, advanced directly towards Milan, where the unexpected approach
of an enemy so powerful, occasioned such consternation and disorder, that
although Pescara entered the city with some of his best troops, he found that
the defence of it could not be undertaken with any probability of success ; and,
having thrown a garrison into the citadel, retired 'through one gate, while the
lYench were admitted at another.^

These brisk motions of the French monarch disconcerted aU the schemes
of defence which the imperialists had formed. Never, indeed, did generals
attempt to oppose a formidable invasion under such ch'cumstanccs of disad-
vantage. Though Charles possessed dominions more extensive than any

* (Euv. de Brant, torn. vi. p. 253. * Mem, de Bellay, p. 81. Guic. lib. i.v. p. 278.

192 FHANCIS BESIEGES PAYIA. [BOOK IT.

other prince in Europe, and had, at this time, no other army but that which
was employed in Lombardy, which did not amount to sixteen thousand men,
his prerogative iu all his different states was so limited, and his subjects,
without whose consent he could raise no taxes, discovered such unwillingness
to burden themselves with new or extraordinary impositions, that even this
small body of troops was in want of pay, of ammunition, of provisions, and
of clothing. In such a situation, it required all the wisdom of Lannoy, the
intrepidity of Pescara, and the implacable resentment of Bourbon, to preserve
them from sinking under despair, and to inspne them with resolution to at-
tempt, or sagacity to discover, what was essential to their safety. To the
efforts of their genius, and the activity of their zeal, the emperor was more
indebted for the preservation of his Italian dominions than to nis own power.
Lannoy, by mortgaging the revenues of Naples, procured some money, which
was immediately applied towards providing the army with whatever was m9st
necessary.^ Pescara, who was beloved and almost adored by the Spanish
troops, exhorted them to show the world, by their engaging to serve the
emperor in that dangerous exigency without making any immediate demand
of pay, that they were animated with sentiments of honour very different from
those of mercenary soldiers ; to which proposition that gallant body of men,
with an unexampled generosity, §ave their consent.'^ Bourbon, having raised
a considerable sum by pawning his jewels, set out for Germany, where his in-
fluence was great, that by his presence he might hasten the levying of troops
for the imperial service.^

Francis, by a fatal error, allowed the emperor's generals time to derive ad-
vantage from all these operations. Instead of pursuing the enemy, who
retired to Lodi on the Adda, an untenable post, which Pescara had resolved
to abandon on the approach of the French, he, in compliance with the opinion
of Bonnivet, though contrary to that of his other generals, laid siege to
Pavia on the Tessino ; a town, indeed, of great importance, the possession
of wliich would have opened to him all the fertile country lying on the banks
of that river. But the fortifications of the place were strong ; it was dangerous
to undertake a difficult siege at so late a season ; and the imperial generals,
sensible of its consequence, had thrown into the town a garrison composed
of six thousand veterans under the command of Antonio de Leyya, an officer
of high rank ; of great experience ; of _ a patient but enterprising corn-age ;
fertile in resources; ambitious of distinguishing himself; and capable, for
that reason, as weU as from his having been long accustomed both to obey
and to command, of suffering or performing anything in order to procure
success.

Prancis prosecuted the_ siege with obstinacy equal to the rashness with
which he had undertaken it. Durmg three months, everything known to the
engineers of that age, or that could be effected by the valour of Ms troops,
was attempted in order to reduce the place, whde Lannoy and Pescara, unable
to obstruct his operations, were obliged to remain in such an ignominious
state of inaction, that a pasquinade was published at Home, offering a reward
to any person who could find the imperial army, lost in the month of October
in the mountains between Prance and Lombardy, and which had not been
heard of since that time.^

Leyva, well acquainted with the difficulties under which his countrymen
laboured, and the impossibihty of their facmg, in the field, such a powerful

6 Guic. lib. XV. p. 280.

7 Jovii, Vit. Davili, lib. 5V. p. 386. Sandov. vol. i. p. 621. TJlloa, Vita di Carlo V
p. 94, &c. Vida del Emperador Carlos V. por Vera y Zuuiga, p. 36.

• M^ra. de Bellay, p. 83. « Sandov. i. p. 698.

BOOK. rV'.] THE pope's TREATY OP KEUTRALITY. 193

army as formed the siege of Payia, placed his only hopes of safety in his own
vigilance and valour. The efibrts of both were extraordinary, and in pro-
portion to the importance of the place with the defence of which he was in-
trusted. He interrupted the approaches of the Prcnch by frequent and furious
sallies. Behind the oreaches made by their artillery, he erected new works,
which appeared to be scarcely inferior in strength to the origmal fortifi-
cations. He repulsed the besiegers in all their assaults; and, by his owa
example, brought not only the gan-ison, but the inhabitants, to bear the most
severe fatigues, and to encounter the greatest dangers, without mui-muring.
The rigour of the season conspired with liis endeavours in retarding the pro-
gress of the French. Francis, attempting to become master of the town, by
diverting the course of the Tessino, which is its chief defence on one side, a
sudden mundation of the river destroyed, in one day, the labour of many
weeks, and swept away all the mounds which his army had raised with in-
finite toil, as well as at great expense.^"

Notwithstanding the slow progress of the besiegers, and the glory w^hich
Lej-va aequu-ed by his gallant defence, it was not doubted but that the town
would, at last, be obliged to surrender. The pope, who already considered
the French arms as superior in Italy, became impatient to disengage himself
from his connexions with the emperor, of whose designs he was extremely
jealous, and to enter into terms of friendship with Francis. As Clement's
timid and cautious temper rendered him incapable of following the bold plan
which Leo had formed, of delivering Italy from the yoke of both the rivals,
he returned to the more obvious and practicable scheme of employing the
power of the one to balance and to restrain that of the other. For this reason,
ne did not dissemble his satisfaction at seeing the French king recover l^Iilan,
as he hoped that the dread of such a neighbour would be some check upon
the emperors ambition, wliich no power in Italy was now able to control.
He laboured hard to bring about a peace that would secui-e Francis in the
possession of his new conquests ; and, as Charles, who was always inflexible
in the prosecution of his schemes, rejected the proposition with'disdain, and
with bitter exclamations against the pope, by whose persuasions, while Car-
dinal de Medici, he had been iuduced to invade the ]\Iilanese, Clement imme-
diatelv concluded a treaty of neutrality with the king of France, in wliich the
republic of Florence was included.'^

Francis having, by this transaction, deprived the emperor of his two most
powerful aUies, and, at the same time, having secured a passage for his own
troops through their territories, formed a seneme of attacking the kingdom
of IS aples, hoping either to overrun that country, which was left altogether
without defence, or that, at least, such an unexpected invasion would oblige
the viceroy to recal part of the imperial army out of the Milanese. For tms
purpose, he ordered six thousand men to march under the command of John
btuart, dvike of Albany. But Pescara, foreseeing that the effect of this di-
version would depend entirely upon the operations of the armies in the Mi-
lanese, persuaded Lannoy to disregard Albany's motions,^- and to bend Ms
whole force against the king himself; so that Francis not only weakened his
army very unseasonably by this great detachment, but incurred the reproach
of engaging too rashly in chimerical and extravagant projects.

[1525.] By this tnne the garrison of Pavia was reduced to extremity;
their ammumtion and provisions began to fail ; the Germans, of whom it
was principally composed, having received no pay for seven months, i'

I

" Guic lib. XV. p. 280. Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V. p. 95.

»i Guic. lib. sv. pp. 282, 285. 12 \i[^^ ub, ^y, ^ 285.

w Gold. Polit. Imperial, p. 875.

194; BATTLE OP PAVIA. [bOOK IV

threatened to deliver the town into tlie enem/s hands, and could hardly be
restrained from mutiny by all Leyva's address and authority. The imperial
generals, who were no strangers to his situation, saw the necessity of marching
without loss of time to his relief. This they had now in their power : twelve
thousand Germans, whom the zeal and activity of Bourbon taught to move
with unusual rapidity, had entered Lombardy under his command, and ren-
dered the imperial armv nearly equal to that of the French, greatly diminished
by the absence of the body under Albany, as well as by the fatigues of the
siege, and the rigour of the season. JBut the more their troops increased in
number, the more sensibly did the imperialists feel the distress arising from
want of money. Far from having funds for paying a powerful army, thej
had scarcely what was sufficient for defraying the charges of conductiag their
artniery, and of carrying their ammunition and provisions. The abilities of
the generals, however, supplied every defect. By their own exam;ple, as well
as by magnificent promises in the name of the emperor, they prevailed on the
troops of all the dmerent nations which composed their army to take the field
without pay; they engaged to lead them directly t9wards the enemy; and
flattered them with the certain prospect of victory which would at once enrich
them with such royal spoils as would be an ample reward for all their ser-
vices. The soldiers, sensible that, by quitting the army, they would forfeit
the great arrears due to them, and eager to get possession oi the promised
treasures, demanded a battle with all the impatience of adventurers who fight
only for plunder."

The imperial generals, without suffering the ardour of their troops to cool,
advanced immediately towards the French camp. On the first intelligence
of their approach, Francis called a council of war, to dehberate what course
he ought tp take. All his officers of greatest experience were unanimous in
advising him to retire, and to decline a battle with an enemy who courted it
from despair. The imperialists, they observed, would either be obhged in a
few weeks to disband an army, which they were unable to pay, and which they
kept together only by the hopp of plunder, or the soldiers, enraged at the
non-performance of the promises to which they had trusted, would rise in
some furious mutiny, which would allow their generals to think of nothmg
but their own safety : that meanwhile, he might encamp in some strong post,
and waiting in safety the arrival of fresh troops from France and Switzerland,
might, before the end of spring, take j)ossession of all the Milanese without
danger or bloodshed. But in opposition to them, Boimivet, whose destiny
it was to give counsels fatal to France during the whole campaign, repre-
sented the ignominy that it would reflect on then- sovereign, if he should
abandon a siege which he had prosecuted so long, or turn his back before an
enemy, to whom he was still superior in number ; and insisted on the ne-
cessity of fighting the imperialists rather than relinquish an undertaking, on
the success of which the king's future fame depended. Unfortunately,
Francis's notions of honour were delicate to an excess that bordered on
what was romantic. Having often said that he would take Pavia or perish
in the attempt, he thought himself bound not to depart from that resolution ;
and rather than expose himself to the slightest imputation, he chose to forego
all the advantages which were the certain consequences of a retreat, and
determined to wait for the imperialists before the walls of Pavia. '^

The imperial generals found the French so strongly entrenched, that, not-
withstanding the powerful motives which urged them on, they hesitated long
before they ventured to attack them ; but at last the necessities of the be-

" Eryci Peuteani Hist. Cisalpina, ap. Grasvii Thes. Antiquit. Ital. iii. pp. 1170, 1179.
« Guic. lib. sv. p. 291.

BOOK IV.] I RANCIS TAKEN PRISONER. 195

sieged, and the murmurs of tbeir own soldiers, obliged them to put eyery-
tidng to hazard. Never did armies eni;ui?c with greater ardour, or with a
higher opiuion of the importaucc of the bat i le which they were goiug to fight ;
never were troops more strongly animated with ennilation, national antipathy,
mutual resentment and all the passions which inspire obstinate bravexy. On
the one hand, a gallant young monarch, seconded by a generous nobility, and
followed by subjects to whose natural impetuosity indi^iation at the opposition
whicli they had encountered added new force, contended for victory and lionour.
On the other side, troops more completely disciplined, and conducted by
generals of greater abilities, fought from necessity, with courage heightened
by despair. The imperialists, however, were unable to resist the first efforts
of the Trench valour, and their firmest battalions began to give way. But
the fortune of the day was quickly changed. The Swiss in the service of
France, munindful of the reputation of their countrj- for fidelity and martial
glory, abandoned their post in a cowardly manner. Leyva, with his garrison,
saUied out and attacked the rear of the rrench, during the heat of the action,
with such fury as threw it iato confusion; and Pescara, falling on their
cavalry with the imperial horse, among whom he had prudently intermingled a
considerable number of Spanish foot, armed with the heavy muskets then in
nse^ broke this formidable body, by an unusual method of attack, against
which they were wholly unprovided. The rout became universal ; and resist-
ance ceased ia abnost every part, but where the king was in person, who
fought now, not for fame or victory, but for safety. Though wounded in
several places, and thrown from his horse, which was killed under him,
Francis defended himself on foot with an heroic courage. Many of his bravest
officers gatherm^ round him, and endeavouring to save his life at the expense
of their own, fell at his feet. Among these was Bonnivet, the author ot this
great calamity, who alone died unlaniented. The king, exhausted with fatigue,
aud scarcely capable of further resistance, was left almost alone, exposed to
the fur)- of some Spanish soldiers, strangers to his rank, and enraged at his
obstinacy. At that moment came up Pomperant, a French gentleman who bad
entered together with Bourbon into the emperor's service, and placing him-
self by the side of the monai'ch agaiast whom he had rebelled, assisted in
protecting him from the violence of the soldiers ; at the same time beseeching
mm to smTcnder to Bourbon, who was not far distant. Imminent as the
danger was whicli now suiTOunded Francis, he rejected with indignation the
thoughts of an action which would have afforded such a matter of triumph to
his traitorous subject • and calling for Laimoy, who happened likewise to be
near at hand, gave up nis sword to him ; which he, kneeling to kiss the king's
hand, received v^dth profound respect ; and taking his own sword from his
side, presented it to him, sajing, " tliat it did not become so CTeat a monarch
to remain disarmed in the presence of one of the emperor's subjects." ^*

Ten thousand men fell on this day,— one of the most fatal France had ever
seen. Among these were many noblemen of the highest distinction, who
chose rather t9 perish than to turn their backs wdth dishonour. Not a few
were taken prisoners, of whom the most illustrious was Henry d'Albret, the
unfortunate king of Navarre. A small body of the rear-guard made its escape,
under the command of the duke of Alcufon ; the feeble garrison of Milan, on
the first news of the defeat, retired, without being pm'sued, by another road;
and in two weeks after the battle, not a Frenchman remained in Italy.

Lannoy, though he treated Francis with all the outward marks of honour

1^ w Guic. lib. XV. p. 292. (Euv. de Brant, vi. p. 355. M^m.deBellay,p.90. Sandov.Hist.
l.p. 638, &c. P. ilart. Ep. 805, 810. Ruscelli, Lettere de' Principi, u. p. 70. Ulloa,
Vfta di Carlo V. p. 98.

i96 ErFECTS OF THE VICTOEY OX CHARLES. [BOOK IV.

due to his rank and character, guarded him with the utmost attention. He
was solicitous, not only to prevent any possibility of his escaping, but afraid
that his own troops might seize his person, and detain it as the best security
for the payment of their arrears. In order to provide against both these
dangers, he conducted Erancis, the day after the battle, to the strong castle of
JPizzichitone, near Cremona, committing him to the custody of Don Ferdinand
Alarcon, general of the Spanish infantry, an officer of great bravery and of
strict honour, but remarkal3le for that severe and scrupulous vigilance which
such a trust required.

Francis, who formed a judgment of the emperor's dispositions by his own,
was extremely desirous that Charles should be informed of his situation,
fondly hoping that from Ms generosity or sympathy he should obtain speedy
relief. The imperial generals were no less impatient to give their sovereign
an early account of the decisive victory which they had gained, and to receive
his instructions with regard to their future conduct. As the most certain
and expeiiitious method of conveying intelligence to Spain, at that season of
the year, was by land, Francis gave the commendador Pennalosa, who was
charged with Lannoy's despatches, a p_assi)ort to travel through France.

Charles received the account of this signal and unexpected success that
had crowned his arms with a moderation, wliich, if it had been real, would
have done him more honour than the greatest victory. Without uttering
one word expressive of exultation, or of intemperate joy, he retired imme-
iiately into his chapel, and, having spent an hour in offering up his thanks-
givings to heaven, returned to the presence-chamber, which by that time
was filled with grandees and foreign ambassadors, assembled in order to con-

fratulate him. He accepted of their compliments with a modest deportment ;
e lamented the misfortune of the captive king, as a striking example of the
sad reverse of fortune to which the most powerful monarchs are subject; he
forbade any public rejoicings, as indecent in a war carried on among Christians,
reserving them until he should obtain a victory equally illustrious over the in-
fidels ; and seemed to take i)leasure in the advantage which he had gained, only
as it would prove the occasion of restoring peace to Christendom,^' ^

Charles, however, had already begun to form schemes in his own mind, which
little suited such external appearances. Ambition, not generosity, was the
ruling passion in his mind ; and the victory at Pavia opened such new and
unbounded prospects of gratifying it, as allured him with irresistible force ;
but it being no easy matter to execute the vast designs which he meditated,
he thought it necessary, while proper measures were taken for that purpose,
to affect the greatest moderation, hoping under that veil to conceal liis real
intentions from the other princes of Europe.

Meanwhile, France was fiUed with consternation. The king himseK had
early transmitted an account of the rout at Pavia, in a letter to his mother,
delivered by Pennalosa, which contained only these words : " Madam, all is
lost, except our honour." The officers who had made their escape, when
they arrived from Italy, brought such a melancholy detail of particulars as
made all ranks of men sensibly feel the greatness and extent of the calamity.
France, without its sovereign, without money in her treasury, wiithout an
army, without generals to command it, and encompassed on all sides by a
victorious and active enemy, seemed to be on the very brink of destruction.
But on that occasion the great abilities of Louise, the regent, saved the king-
dom, which the violence of her passions had more than once exposed to the
greatest danger. Instead of giving herself up to such lamentations as were
natural to a woman so remarkable for her maternal tenderness, she discovered

" SandoY. Hist. i. 611. UUoa, Vita di Carlo V. p. 110.

BOOK IV.J POLICY OF HENRY THE EIGHTH. 197

all the foresight, and exerted all the activity, of a consummate politician.
She assemblea tne nobles at Lyons, and animated them, by her example no
less tliaii by her words, witli such zeal in defence of their country as its
prescMit sit uation required. She collected the remains of the army which had
served in Italy, ransomed the prisoners, paid the arrears, and put them in a
condition to take the field. She levied new troops, provided for the security
of the frontiers, and raised sums sufficient for defraying these extraordinary
expenses. Her chief care, however, was to appease the resentment, or to
gam the friendship, of the king of England ; and from that quarter tne first
ray of comfort broke in ujjon the Erench.

Though Hemy, in entering into alliances with Charles or Eraneis, seldom •
followed any regular or concerted plan of policy, but was influenced chiefly
by the caprice of temporary passions, such occm-rences often happened as re-
called his attention towards that equal balance of power which it was neces-
sary to keep between the two contending potentates, the preservation of which
he always boasted to be liis peculiar office. He had expected that his union
with the emperor might afford him an opportunity of recovering some part
of those territories in Erance which had belonged to his ancestors, and for
the sake of such an acquisition he did not scruple to give his assistance to-
M^ards raising Charles to a considerable pre-eminence above Erancis. He
had never dreamt, however, of any event so decisive and so fatal as the vic-
tory at Pavia, which seemed not only to have broken, but to have annihilated,
the power of one of the rivals ; so that the prospect of the sudden and entire
revolution which tlds would occasion in the political system, filled him with
the most disquieting apprehensions. He saw all Europe in danger of being ^.^
overrun by an ambitious prince, to whose power there now remained no .-^
counterpoise ; and though he himself mi^ht at first be admitted, in quality "^
of an ally, to some share in the spoils of the captive monarch, it was easv tos
discern that, with regard to the mamier of making the partition, as well as
his secuiity for keeping possession of what should be allotted him, he must
absolutely depend upon the will of a confederate, to whose forces his own
bore no proportion. He was sensible that if Charles were permitted to add
any considerable part of Erance to the vast dominions of which he was already
master, liis neighbourhood would be much more formidable to England than
that of the ancient Erench kings ; while, at the same time, the proper balance
on the continent, to which England owed both its safety and importance,
would be entirely lost. Concern for the situation of the unhappy monarch
co-operated with these poUtical considerations ; his gallant behaviour in the
battle of Pavia had excited a high degree of admiration, which never fails of
augmenting sympathy ; and Hem-y, naturally susceptible of generous senti-
ments, was fond of appearing as the deliverer of a vanquished enemy from a
state of captivity. The passions of the English minister seconded the incli-
nations of the monai'ch. Wolsey, who had not forgotten the disappotutment
of his hopes in two successive conclaves, which he imputed chiefly to the
emperor, thought this a proper opportunity of taking revenue ; and Louise,
courting the friendship of England with such flattering submissions as were
no less agreeable to the king than to the cardinal, Henry gave her secret
assurances that he would not lend his aid towards oppressiag Erance, in its
present helpless state, and obliged her to promise that she would not con-
sent to dismember the kingdom, even in order to procure her son's liberty.'*^

But as Henrj's connexions with the emperor made it necessary to act in
such a manner as to save appearances, he ordered public rejoiciugs to be
made in his dominions for the success of the imperial arms ; and as if he had

I

»« Jlem. de Bellay, p. 94. Guic, lib. xvi. p. 318. Herbert.

1§8 EFFECTS OP VICTOUY OX ITALIAN STATES. [BOOK IV.

been eager to seize the present opportunity of ruinino: the French monarchy,
he sent ambassadors to Madrid, to congratulate with Charles upon his victory ;
to put him in mind, that he, as his ally, engaged in one common cause, was
entitled to partake in the fruits of it ; and to require that, m comphance with
the terms of their confederacy, he would invade Guienne with a powerful
army, in order to give him possession of that province. At the same time, he
offered to send the Princess Mary into Spam or the Low Countries, that she
might be educated under the emperor's direction, until the conclusion of the
marriage agreed on between them ; and m return for that mark of liis con-
fidence, he msisted that Francis should be delivered to him in consequence of
that article in the treaty of Bruges, whereby each of the contracting parties
was bound to surrender all usurpers to him whose rights they had invaded.
It was impossible that Henry could expect that the emperor would listen
to these extravagant demands, which it was neither liis interest nor in his
power to grant. They appear evidently to have been made witli no other
intention than to furnish him with a decent pretext for entering into such en-
gagements with France as the juncture reqmi-ed.^^

It was among the Italian states, however, that the victory at Pavia occa-
sioned the greatest alarm and terror. That balance of power on which they
relied for their security, and which it had been the constant object of all
their negotiations and refinements to maintain, was destroyed in a moment.
They were exposed, by tlieir situation, to feel the first effects of that uncon-
trolled authority which Charles had acquired. They observed many symptoms
of a boundless ambition hi that };oung prince, and were sensible that, as
emperor, or king of Naples, he might not only form dangerous pretensions
upon each of their territories, but might invade them with great advantage.
They deliberated, therefore, with much solicitude concerning the means of
raising such a force as might obstruct Ms progress f but then- consultations,
conducted with little union, and executed with less vigour, had no effect.
Clement, instead of pursuing the measures which he had concerted with the
Yenetians for securing the liberty of Italy, was so intimidated by Lanno/s
threats, or overcome by his promises, that he entered into a separate treaty,
binding himself to advance a considerable sum to the emperor, in return for
certain emoluments, which he was to receive from him. The money was in-
stantly paid ; but Charles afterwards refused to ratify the treaty, and the pope
remained exposed at once to infamy and to ridicule ; to the former because
he had deserted the public cause for his private interest ; to the latter, be-
cause he had been a loser by that unworthy action.-^

How dishonourable soever tlie artifice might be which was employed in
order to defraud the pope of this sum, it came very seasonably into the vice-
roy's hands, and put it in his power to extricate himself out of an imminent
danger. Soon after the defeat of the French army, the Gemian troops, which
had defended Pavia with such meritorious courage and perseverance, growing
insolent upon the fame that they had acquired, and impatient of relying any
longer on fruitless promises, with which they had been so often amused, ren-
dered themselves masters of the town, with a resolution to keep possession of
it as a security for the payment of their arrears ; and the rest of the army dis-
covered a much stronger inclination to assist, than to punish the mutineers.
By dividing among them the money exacted from the pope, Lannoy quieted

" Herbert, p. 64.

*o Guic. lib. x\d. p. 300. Knscelli, Lettere de' Princ. ii. pp. 74, 76, &c. Thuani Hist,
lib. L c. 11.

21 Guic. lib. xvi. p. 305. Mauroceni Eistor Venet. ap. Istorici delie Cose Vene& v.
131 136,

BOOK IV.] CONDITIONS FOR FRANCIS'S LIBERATION. 19&

the tumultuous Germans ; but though this satisfied their present demands,
}ie had so little prospect of being able to pay tlieni or his other forces regu-
larly for the future, and was under such continual apprehensions of their
seizing the person of the captive king, that, not lon^ alter, he was obliged to
dismiss all the Germans and Italians in the imperial service.=^ Thus, from
i'. circumstance that now appears very smgular, but arising naturally from
the constitution of most European governments in the sixteenth century,
wlnle Charles was suspected by all his neighbours of aiming at universal mo-
narchy, and wliile he was really forming vast proiects of this kind, his revenues
were so limited, that he could not keep on foot his victorious army, though it
did not exceed twenty-four thousand men.

During these transactions, Charles, whose pretensions to moderation and
disinterestedness were soon forgotten, deliberated, vrith the utmost solicitude,
how he miglit derive the greatest advantages from the misfortunes of his
adversary. Some of his councilloi-s advised him to treat Trancis with the
magnanimity that became a victorious priace, and, instead of takiug advan-
tage of his situation to impose rigorous conditions, to dismiss him on such
equal terms as would bind him for ever to his interest by the ties of gratitude
and aiFectiou, more forcible as well as more permanent than any which could
be formed by extorted oaths and involuntary stipulations. Such an exertion,
of generosity is not, perhaps, to be expected ta the conduct of political aliairs,
and it was far too refined for that prince to whom it was proposed. The
more obvious, but less splendid scheme, of endeavouring to make the utmost
of Francis's calamity^ had a greater number ia the council to recommend it,
and suited better with the emperor's genius. But though Charles adopted
this plan, he seems not to have executed it in the most proper manner. In-
stead of making one great effort to penetrate into France, with aU the forces
of Spaiu and the Low Countries ; instead of crushing the Italian states before
they recovered from the consternation which the success of his arms had
occasioned, he had recourse to the artifices of intrigue and negotiation. This
proceeded partly from necessity, partly from the natural disposition of his
mind. The situation of his finances at that time rendered it extremely diffi-
cult to carry on any extraordinary annament ; and he himseK having never
appeared at the head of his anmes, the command of which he had hitherto
committed to his generals, was averse to bold and martial counsels, and
trusted more to the arts with which he w^as acquainted. He laid, besides,
too much stress upon the victory of Pa^da, as if by that event the strength of
France had been amiiliilated, its resources exhausted, and the kingdom itself,
no less than the person of its monarch, had been subjected to his power.

Full of this opinion, he determined to set the highest price upon Francis's
freedom, and having ordered the Count de Roeux to visit the captive king in
his name, he instructed him to propose the following articles, as the conditions
on which he would grant him liis liberty : That he should restore Burgundy
to the emperor, from whose ancestors it had been unjustly wrested; that he
should surrender Provence and Dauphine, that they might be erected into an
independent kingdom for the coiistable Bourbon ; that he should make full
satisfaction to the king of England for aU his claims, and finallv renounce the
pretensions of France to Naples, Milan, or any other territoiy in Italy.
When Francis, >yho had hitherto flattered himself that he should be treated
by the emperor with the generosity becoming one great prince towards another,
heard these rigorous conditions, he was so transported with indignation, that,
drawing his dagger hastily, he cried out, " 'Tvvere better that a king should
die thus." Alai'con, alanued at his vehemence, laid hold on his hand ; but

I

" Guic. lib. xvi. p. 302.

200 PEAJsTIS CABRIED TO SPAIN. [BOOK. IV.

though he soon recovered greater composure, he still declared, in the most
solemn manner, that he would rather remain a prisoner during life, than pur-
chase liberty by such ignominious concessions.^^

This mortifying discovery of the emperor's intentions greatly augmented
Francis's chagrin and impatience under his confinement, and must have driven
him to absolute despair, if he had not laid hold of the only thing which could
still administer any comfort to him. He persuaded himself, that the con-
ditions which E,03ux had proposed did not flow originally from Charles him-
self, but were dictated by the rigorous policy of his Spanish council; and
that therefore he might hope, in one personal interview with him, to do more
towards hastening his own deliverance than could be effected by long nego-
tiations passing through the subordinate hands of his ministers. Reljing on
this supposition, which proceeded from too favourable an opinion of the em-
peror's character, he offered to visit him in Spain, and was willmg to be carried
thither as a spectacle to that haughty nation. Lannoy employed all his ad-
dress to confirm him_ in these sentiments, and concerted with liim in secret
the manner of executing this resolution. Francis was so ea^er on a scheme
which seemed to open some prospect of liberty, that he furnished the galleys
necessary for conveying him to Spain, Charles being at this time unable to
fit out a squadron for that purpose. The viceroy, without communicating
his intentions either to Bourbon or Pescara, conducted his prisoner towards
Genoa, under pretence of transporting him by sea to Naples • though, soon
after they set sail, he ordered the pilots to steer directly for Spam ; but the
wind happening to carry them near to the French coast, the unfortunate
monarch had a full prospect of his own dominions, towards which he cast
many a sorrowful ancf desiring look. They landed, however, in a few days, at
Barcelona, and soon after, Francis was lodged, by the emperor's command, in
the alcazar of Madrid, under the care of the vigilant Alarcon, who guarded
him with as much circumspection as ever .2*

A few days after Francis's arrival at Madrid, and when he began to be
sensible of his having relied, without foundation, on the emperor's generosity,.
Henry VIII. concluded a treaty with the regent of France, wliich afforded him
some hope of liberty from another quarter. Henry's extravagant demands
had been received at Madrid with that neglect which they deserved, and
which he probably expected. Charles, intoxicated with prosperity, no longer
courted liiin m that respectful and submissive manner which pleased his
haughty temper. Wolsey, no less haughty than his master, was highly irri-
tated at the emperor's disconUnuiug his wonted caresses and professions of
friendship to himself. These slight offences, added to^ the weighty consi-
derations formerly mentioned, induced Hemy to enter into a defensive alli-
ance with Louise, in which all the differences between him and her son
were adjusted; at the same time, he engaged that he would employ his
best olfices, in order to procure the dehverance of his new ally from a state
of captivity.-'^

Whiler^he open defection of such a powerful confederate affected Charles
with deep coiiceny, a secret conspiracy was carrjin^ on in Italy, which threat-
ened Mm with consequences still more fatal. The restless and intriguing
genius of Morone, chancellor of MHan, gave rise to this. His revenge had
been amply gratified by the expulsion of the French out of Italy, and his
vanity no less soothed by the re-establishment of Sforza, to whose interest he
had attached himself in the duchy of ^Nlilan. The delays, however, and

23 Mem. de Bellay, p. 94. Ferreras, Hist. ix. p. 43.

2* Mem. de Bellay, p. 95. P. Mart. Ep. ult. Guic. lib. xvi. p. 323.

25 Herbert. Fiddes's Life of Wolsey, p. 337.

I

BOOK IV.J INTEIGUES OP MOBONE IN MILAN. 201

evasions of the imperial court, in granting Sforza the investiture of his
newly-acquired territories, had long alarmed Morone; these were repeated
so often, and mth such apparent artifice, as became a full proof to lus sus-
picious mind, that tlie emperor intended to strm his master of that rich
country whicn he had con(juered in his name. Thougli Charles, in order to
quiet; the pope and Venetians, no less jealous of his designs than Morone,
gave Sforza, at last, the investiture which had been so lon^ desired, the
charter was clogged with so many reservations^ and subjected him to such
grie'^ous burdens, as rendered the dulce of Milan a dependent on the em-
perCT, rather than a vassal of the empire, and afforded him hardly any other
security for his possessions than the good, pleasure of an ambitious superior.
Suci an accession of power as would have accrued from the addition of the
MHinese to the kingdom of Naples, was considered by Morone as fatal to the
libeities of Italy, no less than to his own importance. Eull of this idea, he
be^n to revolve in his mind the possibility of rescuing Italy from the yoke
of foreigners; the darhng scheme, as has been already observed,_of the Italian
politicians in that age, and wliich it was the great object of their ambition to
accomplish. If to the glory of having been the chief instmment of driving
the French out of Milan, he could add that of delivering Naples from the
doninion of the Spaniards, he thought that nothing would be wanting to
conplete his fame. His fertile genius soon suggested to him a project for
thtt purpose ; a difficult, indeed, and daring one, but for that very reason
mere agreeable to his bold and enterprising temper.

Bourbon and Pescara were equally em-aged at Lannoy's carrying the Erench
kiig iato Spain without their knowledge. The former being afraid that the
tvo monarchs might, in his absence, conclude some treaty in which his in-
tffests would be entirely sacrificed, hastened to Madrid, in order to guard
afainst that danger. The latter, on whom the command of the army now
devolved, was obliged to remam in Italy; but, in every company, he gave
v;nt to his indignation against the viceroj^, in expressions fuU of rancour and
ontempt ; he accused him, in a letter to the emperor, of cowardice in the
tme of danger, and of insolence after a victory, towards the obtaining of
vhich he had contributed nothing either by his valour or his conduct ; nor
dd he abstain from bitter complamts against the emperor himself, who had
lot discovered, as he imagined, a sufficient sense of his merit, nor bestowed
my adequate reward on liis services. It was on this dis^st of Pescara that
Morone founded his whole system. _ He knew the boundless ambition of his
nature, the great extent of his abilities in. peace as well as war, and the intre-
pidity of his mind, capable alike of undertaking and of executing the most
desperate designs. The cantonment of the Spanish troops on the frontier of
the Milanese, gave occasion to many interviews between him and Morone,
in which the latter took care frequently to turn the conversation to the
transactions subsequent to the battle of Pavia,— a subject upon which the
marquis always entered wiUingly and with passion ; and Morone, observing
his resentment to be uniformly violent, artfully pointed out and aggravated
every circumstance that could merease its fury. He painted, in the strongest
colours, the emperor's want of discernment, as well as of gratitude, in pre-
ferring Lannoy to him, and in allowing that presumptuous Pleraing to dispose
of the captive king without consulting the man to whose bravery and wisdom
Charles was indebted for the glory of having a formidable rival in his power.
Having warmed him by such discourses, ne then began to insinuate that
now was the time to be avenged for these insults, and to acquire unmortal
renown as the deliverer of his co\intry from the oppression of strangers ;
that the states of Italy, weary of the ignominious and intolerable dominion
of barbarisms, were at least ready to combine in order to vindicate their own

2G# MOKONE BETEAYED BY PESCAEA. [BOOK IV.

independence ; tliat their eyes were fixed on him -as the only leader whose
genius and good fortune could ensure the happy success of that noble enter-
prise ; that the attempt was no less practicable than glorious, it being in Ms
power so to disperse the Spanish infantry, the only body of the emperor's
troops that remained in Italy, through the villages of the Milanese, that, in
one night, they might be destroyed by the people, who, having suffered much
from their exactions and insolence, would gladly undertake this service ; "hat
he might then, Anthout opposition, take possession of the throne of Naples, —
the station destined for him, and a reward not unworthy the restorer of liberty
to Italy • that the pope, of whom that kingdom was held, and whose prede-
cessors ha,d disposed of it on many former occasions, would willinglv giant
him the right of investiture ; that the Venetians, the Florentines, the I)ulc3 of
Milan, to whom he had communicated the scheme, together with the Treich,
would be the guarantees of his right ; that the Neapolitans would naturally
prefer the government of one of their countrymen, whom they loved and ad-
mired, to that odious dominion of strangers, to which they had been so lono-
subjected ; and that the emperor, astonished at a blow so unexpected, woild
find that he had neither troops nor money to resist such a powerful CDn-
federacy.^^

_ Pescara, amazed at the boldness and extent of the scheme, listened atten-
tively to Morone, but with the countenance of a man lost in iirofound aid
anxious thought. On the one hand, the infamy of betraying his sovereign,
under whom he bore such high command, deterred him from the attempt ;
on the other, the prospect of obtaining a crown allured hun to venture up»n
it. _ After continuing a short time in suspense, the least commendable motives,
as is usual after such deliberations, prevailed, and ambition triumphed ov^r
honour. In order, however, to throw a colour of decency on his conduct,
he insisted that some learned casuists should give their opinion, " Wheth«r
it was lawful for a subject to take arms against his immediate sovereign, ii
obedience to the lord paramount of whom the kingdom itself was held ?*
Such a resolution of the case as he expected was soon obtained from tb
diviaes and civilians both of Rome and Milan; the negotiation went forward;
and measures seemed to be taken with great spirit for the speedy executioi
of the design.

During this interval, Pescara, either shocked at the treachery of the action
that he was going to commit, or despauing of its success, began to entertain
thoughts of abandoning the engagements which he had come under. The
indisposition of Sforza, who happened at that time to be taken ill of a dis-
temper which was thought mortal, confirmed his resolution, and determined
him to make known the whole conspiracy to the emperor, deeming it more"
prudent to expect the duchy; of Milan from hun as the reward of tliis dis-
covery, than to aim at a kingdom to be purchased by a series of crimes.
This resolution, however, proved the source of actions hardly less cruninal
and ignominious. The emperor, who had already received full information
concerning the conspiracy from other hands, seemed to be liighlj; pleased
with Pescara's fidelity, and commanded him to continue his intrigues for
some time with the pope and Sforza, both that he might discover their inten-
tions more fully, and that he might be able to convict them of the crime with
greater certainty. Pescara, conscious of gmlt, as well as sensible how sus-
picious his long silence must have appeared at Madrid, durst not decline that
dishonourable office ; and was obliged to act the meanest and most disgraceful

2« Guic. lib. xvi. p. 325. Jovii VitaDavali,p.417. (Euv. de Brantome, iv. 171. Rascelli,
Lettere de' Princ. ii. p. 91. Thuani Hist. lib. i. ch. 11. P. Heuter. Ker. Austr. lib. ix.
eh. 3, p. 207

I

BOOK lY.j TitEATMJiNT OP MLANCIS. 203

oi all parts, that of seducing with a purpose to betray. Considering the
abilities ot' the persons with Avhorn he had to de;il, the part was scarcely less
dilHculL than base ; but he acted it with such address, as to deceive even the
penetrating eye of Morone, who, relying with full contidence on his sincerity,
visited him at Noyai-a, in order to put the last hand to their machinations.
Pescaia received hiui in an apartment where i\jitonio de Leyva was placed
behind the tapestry, that he might overhear and bear witness to their con-
versation; as Morone was about to take leave, that officer suddenly ap-
peared, and to his astonishment, arrested him prisoner in the emperors
name. He was conducted to the castle of Pavia ; and Pescara, who had so
lately been his accomplice, had now the assurance to interrogate him as his.
judge. At the same time, the emperor declared Sforza to have forfeited all
right to the duchy of iMiian, by his engaging in a conspiracy against the
sovereign of whom he held ; Pescara, by his command, seized on every place
in the Milanese, except the castles of Cremona and JNIilan, which the unfor-
tunate duke attemptmg to defend, were closely blockaded by the imperial
troops.-^

But though this unsuccessful conspiracy, instead of stripping the emperor
of what he already possessed in Italy, contributed to extend his dominions
in that country, it showed him the necessity of coming to some agreement
with the Prencli king, unless he chose to draw on himself a confederacy of all
Europe, which the progress of his arms and his ambition, now as undisguised
as it was boundless, filled with general alarm. He had not hitherto treated
Francis with the generosity which that monarch expected, and hardly with
the decency due to his station. Instead of displaying the sentiments be-
coming a great prince, Charles, by his mode of treating Prancis, seems to
have acted with the mercenaiy heart of a corsaii-, who, by the rigorous usa^e
of his prisoners, endeavours to draw from them a higher price for their
ransom. The captive king was confined to an old castle, under a keeper
whose fonnal austerity of mannei-s rendered his vigilance stili more dis-
gusting. He was allowed no exercise but that of riding on a nude, sur-
round^ with armed guards on horseback. Charles, on pretence of its being
necessary to attend the cortes assembled in Toledo, had gone to reside in
that citv, and suffered several weeks to elapse without visiting Francis,
though lie solicited an interview with the most pressing and submissive im-
portunitv. So many indignities made a deep impression on a liigh-spirited
prince ; he began to lose all relish for his usual amusements ; his natui-al
gaiety of temper forsook him ; and after languishing for some time, he was
seized with a dangerous fever, during the violence of which he complained
constantly of the unexpected and unprincely rigour with which he had been
treated, often exclaiming, that now tne emperor would have the satisfaction
of his djiug a prisoner in his hands, without haying once deigned to see his
face. The physicians, at last, despaired of his life, and informed the emperor
that they saw no hope of his recovery, unless he were gratified with regard
to that point on which he seemed to be so strongly bent. Charles, soKcitous
to preserve a life with which all his prospects of further advantage from the
victory of Pavia must have terminated, immediately consulted Ms ministers
concemiQg the course to be taken. In vaui did the chancellor Gattinara, the
most able among them, represent to him the indecency of his visiting Francis,
if he did not intend to set him at liberty; immediately upon equal terms ; in
vain did he point out the infamy to which he would be exposed, if avarice
or ambition should prevail on him to give the captive monarch this mark of
attention and sympathy, for which humanity and generosity had pleaded so

» Guic. lib. xvL p. 329. Jovii Hist, p, 319. Capella, Ub. v. p. 200.

204 BOUILBON AEEIVES AT TOLEDO. [BOOK IT.

long without effect. The emperor, less delicate, or less solicitous about re-
putation than his minister, set out for Madrid to visit his prisoner. The
interview was short : Ifrancis being too weak to bear a long conversation,
Charles accosted him in terms full of affection and respect, and gave him
such promises of speedy deliverance and princely treatment, as would have
reflected the greatest honour upon him, if they had flowed from another
source. Prancis grasped at them with the eagerness natural iri his situation ;
and, cheered with this gleam of hope, began to revive from that moment,
recovering rapidly his wonted health. -^

He had soon the mortification to find, that his confidence in the emperor
was not better founded than formerly. Charles returned instantly to Toledo ;
all negotiations were carried on by his ministers ; and Trancis was kept in
as strict custody as ever. A new mdignity, and that very_ galling, was added
to all those he had already suffered. Bourbon arriving in Spain about this
time, Charles, who had so long refused to visit the king of Erance, received-
his rebellious subject with the most studied respect. He met him without
the gates of Toledo, embraced him with the greatest affection, and, placmg hun
on his left hand, conducted him to his apartment. These marks of honour
to him were so many msults to the unfortunate monarch, which he felt in a
very sensible manner. It afforded him some consolation, however, to observe,
that the sentiments of the Spaniards differed widely from those of their sove-
reign. That generous people detested Bourbon's crime. Notwithstanding
his great talents and important services, they shunned all intercourse with
him to such a degi'ce, that Charles, having desired the marquis de ViUena to
permit Bourbon to reside in his palace while the court remained in Toledo,
he politely replied, " That he could not refuse gratifying his sovereign in that
request ;" but added, with a Castilian dignity of mind, that the emperor must
not be surprised, if, the moment the constable departed, he should burn to
the ground a house which, having been polluted by the presence of a traitor,
became an unfit habitation for a man of honour.^

Charles liimself, nevertheless, seemed to have it much at heart to reward
Bourbon's services in a signal manner. But as he insisted, in the first place,
on the accomplishment of the emperor's promise of givmg him iii maniage
his sister Eleanora, queen-dowager of Portugal, the honour of which alliance
had been one of his chief inducements to rebel agairist his lawful sovereign ;
as Prancis, in order to prevent such a dangerous union, had offered, before he
left Italy, to marry that princess ; and as Eleanora herself discovered an in-
clination rather to match with a powerful monarch than with his exiled sub-
ject ; all these interfering cii-cumstances created_ great embarrassment to
Charles, and left liim hardly any hope of extricatiag himself with decency.
But the death of Pescara, who, at the age of thirty-six, left behind him the
reputation of beuig one of the greatest generals and ablest politicians of that
century, happened opportunely at this juncture for his relief. Bv that event
the command of the army in Italy became vacant, and Charles, always fertile
in resources, persuaded Bourbon, who was in no condition to dispute his wiD,
to accept the office of general-in-chief there, together with a grant of the
duchy of Milan forfeited by Sforza ; and in return for these, to relinquish all
hopes of marrying the queen of Portugal.^"*

The chief obstacle that stood in the way of Erancis's liberty, was the em-
peror's continuing to insist so peremptorily on the restitution of Burgundy,
as a prelimiaary to that event, Erancis often declared that he would never
consent to dismember his kingdom ; and that even if he should so far forget

28 Guic. lib. xvi. p. 339. Sandov. Hist. i. 665. =» Guic. lib. xvi. p. 335.

«o Sandov. Hist. i. p, 676. (Eut. de Brant, iv. p. 249.

BOOK IV.] TREATY OF MADRID. 205

the duties of a monarcli as to come to such a resolution, the fjiudamental
laws of tlie nation would prevent its taking effect. On his part, he was
willing to make an absolute cession to the emperor of all his pretensions in
Italy and tlie Low Countries ; he promised to restore to Boui'bon all his
lauds which had been confiscated ; he renewed his proposal of marrjing the
emperor's sister, the queen-dowager of Portugal ; and engaged to pay a great
sum by way of ransom for liis own person. But all mutual esteem and con-
fidence between the two monarchs were now entirelj^ lost ; there apjoeared, on
the one hand, a rapacious ambition labouring to avail itsell' of every favourable
circumstance ; on the other, suspicion and resentment standing perpetually
on their guard ; so that the prospect of bringing their negotiations to an issue
seemed to be far distant. The duchess of Alencon, the French king's sister,
whom Charles permitted to visit her brother in his confinement, employed all
her address in order to procure his liberty on more reasonable terms. Henry
of England interposed his good offices to the same purpose ; but both with
so little success, that Francis, in despair, took suddenly the resolution of re-
signing his crown, with all its rights and prerogatives, to his son, the dauphin,
determining rather to end his days in prison, than to purchase his freedom by
concessions unworthy of a king. The deed for this purpose he signed with
legal formality in Madrid, empowering liis sister to carrjr it into France, that
it might be registered in all the parliaments of the kingdom ; and at the
same time intunating his intention to the emperor, he desired him to name
the place of his confinement, and to assign rum a proper number of at-
tendants during the remainder of his days.^^

This resolution of the French king had great effect ; Charles began to be
sensible that by pushing rigour to excess, he might defeat his own measures ;
and instead of the vast advantages which he hoped to draw from ransoming a
powerful monarch, he might at last find in his hands a prince without do-
minions or revenues. About the same time, one of the king of Navarre's
domestics happened by an extraordinary exertion of fidelity, courage, and
address, to procure his master an opportunity of escaping from the prison in
which ne had been confined ever since the battle of Pavia. This convinced
the emperor that the most vigilant attention of his officers might be eluded
by the m^enuity or boldness ot Francis or his attendants, and one unlucky
hour might deprive him of all the advantages which he had been so solicitous
to obtain. By these considerations, he was induced to abate somewhat of
his former demands. On the other hand, Francis's impatience imder confine-
ment daily increased ; and having received certain intelligence of a powerful
league forming against his rival in Italy, he grew more compliant with regard
to his concessions, trustiag that if he could once obtain his liberty, he would
soon be ia a condition to resume whatever he had yielded.

[1526.] Such being the views and sentiments of the two monarchs, the
treaty which procured Francis his liberiy was signed at Madrid, on the four-
teenth of January, one thousand five himdred and twenty-sis. The article
with regard to Burgundy, which had hitherto created the greatest difficulty,
was compromised, Francis engaging to restore that duchy, with all its de-
pendencies, in full sovereignty to the emperor; and Charles consenting
that this restitution should not be made until the king was set at liberty.
In order to secure the performance of this as weU as the other conditions m
the treaty, Francis a^eed that, at the same instant when he himself should
be released, he would deliver as hostages to the emperor, his eldest son, the
dauphin, and his second son, the duke of Orleans, or, in ^ieu of the latter,

'1 This paper is published in Mdmoires Historiques, &c., par M. I'Alab^ Baynal, torn. iL
p. 151,

206 TREATY OF MADRID. [BOOK IV.

twelve of his principal nobility to he named by Charles. The other articles
swelled, to a great number, and, though not of such importance, were
extremely rigorous. Among these the most remarkable were, that Francis
should renounce all his pretensions in Italy; that he should disclaim any
title which he had to the sovereignty of Flanders and Artois ; that, within
six weeks after his release, he should restore to Bourbon, and his adherents,
all their goods, movable and immovable^ and make them full reparation for
the damages which they had sustamed by the confiscation of them ; that he
should use his interest with Henry d'Albret to relinquish his pretensions to
the crown of Navarre, and should not for the future assist him in any at-
tempt to recover it ; that there should be estabHshed between the emperor and
Francis a league of perpetual friendship and confederacy, with a promise of
mutual assistance in every case of necessity ; that in corroboration of this
union, Francis should marry the emperor's sister, the queen-dowager of Por-
tugal ; that Francis shcfuld cause aU the articles of this treaty to be ratified by
the states, and registered in the parliaments of his kingdom ; that upon the
emperor's receiving this ratification, the hostages should be set at liberty;
but in their place, the duke of Angouleme, the king's third son, should be
delivered to Charles ; that, in order to manifest as weU as to strengthen
the amity between the tys^o monarchs, he might be educated at the imperial
court J and that if Francis did not, within the time limited, fulfil the stipula-
tions m the treaty, he should promise, upon his honour and oath, to return to
Spain, and to surrender himself again a prisoner to the emperor.^^

By this treaty, Charles flattered himseK that he had not only effectually
humbled his rival, but that lie had taken such precautions as would for ever
prevent his re-attaining any formidable degree of power. The opinion which
the wisest politicians formed concerning it was very different; they could
not persuade themselves that Francis, after obtaining his liberty, would execute
articles against which he had struggled so long, and to which, notwithstand-
ing all that he had felt during a long and rigorous confinement, he had con-
sented with the utmost reluctance. Ambition and resentment, they knew,
would conspire in prompting him to violate the hard conditions to which he
had been constrained to submit; nor would arguments and casuistry be
wanting to represent that which was so manifestly advantageous, to be neces-
sary and just. If one part of Francis's conduct had been known at that
time, this opinion might have been founded, not in conjecture, but in cer-
tainty. A few hours before he signed the treaty, he assembled such of
his counsellors as were then at Madrid; and having exacted from them a
solemn oath of secrecy, he made a lon^ enumeration m their presence of the
dishonourable arts, as weU as unprinceiy rigour, which the emperor had em-
ployed in order to ensnare or intimidate him. For that reason, he took a
formal j)rotest in the hands of notaries, that his consent to the treaty should
be considered as an involmitary deed, and be deemed null and void.^^ By
this disingenuous artifice, for which even the treatment that he had met with
was no apology, Francis endeavoured to satisfy his honour and conscience in
signing the treaty, and to provide at the same time a pretext on which to
break it.

Great, meanwhile, were the outward demonstrations of love and confidence
between the two monarchs; they appeared often together in pubHc; they
frequently had long conferences in private ; they travelled in the same litter,
and joined in the same amusements. But, amidst these signs of peace
and friendship, the emperor stiU. harboured suspicion iu his miad. Though

^2 Recueil des Trait, torn. ii. p. 112. Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V. pp. 102, &c.
" Recueil des Trait, torn. ii. p. 107.

BOOK IV.J LIBERATION OF FRANCIS. . 207

the ceremonies of the marnage between Erancis and the qneen of Portugal
were performed soon after the conclusion of the treaty, Charles would not
permit him to consummate it until the return of the ratification from Trance.
Even then Francis was not allowed to be at full liberty; his guards were
still continued; though caressed as a brother-in-law, he was stiU watched like
a prisoner ; and it was obvious to attentive observers, that an union, in the
very beginning of which there might be discerned such symptoms of jealousy
and distrast, could not be cordial, or of long continuance.^*

About a month after the signing of the treaty, the regent's ratification of
it was brought from Trance; and that wise princess, preferring, on this
occasion, the public good to domestic affection, informed her son, that, in-
stead of the twelve noblemen named in the treaty, she had sent the dulce of
Orleans along with his brother, the dauphin, to the frontier, as the kingdom
could suffer nothing by the absence of a child, but must be left almost
incapable of defence, if deprived of its ablest statesmen and most experienced

fenerals, whom Charles had artfully included in_ his nomination. At last,
'raiicis took leave of the emperor, whose suspicion of the king's sincerity
increasing as the time of putting it to the proof approached, he endeavoured
to biad Mm still faster by exacting new promises, which, after those he had
already made, the French monarch was not slow to grant. _ He set out from
Madrid,— -a place which the remembrance of many afflicting circumstances
rendered pecuHarly odious to him, — with the joy natural on such an occasion,
and began the long-wished-for journey towards his own dominions. He was
escorted by a body of horse under the command of Alarcon, who, as the king
drew near the frontiers of France, guarded him with more scrupulous ex-
actness than ever. When he arrived at the river Andaye, which separates
the two kingdoms, Lautrec appeared on the opposite bank with a guard of
horse, equal in number to Alarcon's. An empty bark was moored in the
middle of the stream ; the attendants drew up in order on the opposite
banks ; at the same instant, Lannoy, with eight gentlemen, put off from
the Spanish, and Lautrec, with the same number, from the French side of the
river ; the former had the king in his boat : the latter, the dauphin and duke
of Orleans ; they met in the empty vessel ; the exchange was made in a
moment ; Francis, after a short emDrace of his children, leaped into Lau-
trec's boat, and reached the French shore. He mounted, at that instant, a
Turkish horse, waved his hand over his head, and with a joyful voice crying
aloud several times, " I am yet a king," galloped fuU speed to St. John de
Luz, and from thence to Bayonne. This event, no less impatiently desired by
the French nation than by their monarch, happened on the eighteenth of
March, a year and twenty-two days after the fatal battle of Pavia.^^

Soon after the emperor had taken leave of Francis, and permitted him to
begin his journey towards his own dominions, he set out for Seville, in order
to solemnize his marriage with Isabella, the daughter of Emanuel, the late
king of Portugal, and the sister of Jolm III., who had succeeded him m the
throne of thatldngdom. Isabella was a princess of uncommon beauty and ac-
comj^hshments ; and as the cortes, both in Castile and Aragon, had warmly
solicited their sovereign to marry, the choice of a wife, so nearly alhed to
the royal blood of both kingdoms, was extremely acceptable to his subjects.
The Portuguese, fond of this new connexion with the furst monarch m Chris-
tendom, granted him an extraordinary dowry with Isabella, amounting to
nine hundred thousand crowns, — a sum, which, from the situation of his
affairs at that juncture, was of no small consequence to the emperor. The
marriage was celebrated with that splendour and gaiety which became a great

" Gdc. lib. xvi. p. 353. ^^ Sandor. Hist. i. p. 735. Guic. lib. xvi. p. 355.

208 • I2s'SUItRECTI0N IN SUABIA. [BOOK. IV.

and youtlifui prince. Charles lived with Isabella in perfect harmony, and
treated her on all occasions "with mnch distinction and regard.^^

Duiing these transactions, Charles could hardly give any attention to
the affairs of Germany, though it was torn in pieces by commotions, which
threatened the most dangerous consequences. By the feudal institutions,
which still subsisted almost unimpaired in the empire, the property of lands
was vested in the princes and free barons. _ Their vassals held of them by
the strictest and most limited tenures ; while the great body of the people
was kept in a state but little removed from absolute servitude. In some
places of Germany, people of the lowest class were so entii-ely in the power
of then- masters, as to be subject to personal and domestic slavery, the most
rigorous form of that wretched state. 'In other provinces, particularly ia
Bohemia and Lusatia, the peasants were bound to remain on the lands to
which they belonged, and, making part of the estate, were transferred, like any
other property, from one hand to another. Even in Suabia, and the countries
on the banks of the Rhine, where their condition was most tolerable, the
peasants not only paid the fuU rent of their farms to the landlord, but if they
chose either to change the place of their abode, or to follow a new profession,
before they could accomplish what they desired, they were obliged to purchase
this privilege at a certam price. Besides this, all grants of lands to peasants
expired at their death, without descending to their posterity. Upon that
event, the landlord had a right to the best of their cattle, as weU as of their
furniture ; and their heirs, in order to obtain a renewal of the grant, were
obliged to pay large sums by way of fine. These exactions, though grievous,
were borne with patience, because they were customary and ancient : but
when the progress of elegance and luxury, as well as the changes introduced
into the art of war, came to increase the expense of government, and made
it necessary for prmces to levy occasional or stated taxes on their subjects,
such impositions being new, appeared intolerable ; and in Germany, these
duties being laid chiefly upon beer, wine, and other necessaries of life, affected
the common people in the most sensible manner. The addition of such a
-oad to their former burdens drove them to despair. It was to the valour
inspired by resentment agamst impositions of this kind, that the Swiss owed
the acquisition of their liberty in the fourteenth century. The same cause
had excited the peasants in several other provinces of Germany; to rebel
agamst their superiors towards the end of the fifteenth and beginning of the
sixteenth centuries ; and though these insurrections were not attended with
like success, they could not, however, be quelled without much diflB.culty and
bloodshed.^^

By these checks, the spirit of the peasants was overawed rather than sub-
dued ; and their grievances multiplymg contuiuallyj they ran to arms, in the
year one thousand five hundred and twenty-six, with the most frantic ra»e.
Their first appearance was near Ulm, in Suabia. The peasants in the ac^a-
cent country flocked to their standard with the ardour and impatience natural
to men who, having groaned long under oppression, beheld at last some pros-
pect of deliverance ; and the contagion spreading from province to province,
reached almost every part of Germany. Wherever they came, they plundered
the monasteries ; wasted the lands of their superiors ; razed their castles, and
massacred without mercy all persons of noble birth who were so unhappy as
to fall into their hands.^^ Having intimidated their oppressors, as they

36 Ulloa, Vita di Carlo V. p. 106. Belcariiis Com. Eer. Gallic, p. 565. Spalatinns,
ap. Struv. Corp. Hist. Germ. ii. 1081.

37 Seckend. lib* ii. pp. 2, 6.

38 Petr. Crinitus de Bello Rusticano, ap. Freher. Script. Eer. Germ. Argent. 1717, voL
ii. p. 243.

BOOK IV.] REVOLT IN THTJRINGIA, 209

iina<?med, bv the violence of these proceedings, they began to consider what
would be tne most proper and eifectnal method of securing themselves for
the future from their tyrannical exactions. With this view they drew up and
published a memorial containing all their demands, and declared that, while
arms were in their hands, they would either persuade or oblige the nobles to
give them full satisfaction with regard to these. The chief articles were, that
they might have liberty to choose their own pastors ; that they might be freed
from the payment of all tithes, except those of com; that they might no
longer be considered as the slaves or Dondmen of their superiors; that the
liberty of hunting and fishing might be common ; that the great forests might
not be regarded as private property, but be open for the use of all ; that they
might be delivered from the uuusual burden of taxes under which they
laboured ; that the administration of justice might be rendered less rigorous
and more impartial ; that the encroacmnents of the nobles upon ."leadows and
commons might be restrained.^^

Many of these demands were extremely reasonable ; and, beii ig urged by
such formidable numbers, should have met with some redress. But those
unwieldy bodies, assembled in different places, had neither union, nor conduct,
nor vigour. Being led by persons of the lowest rank, without skill in war, or
knowledge of what was necessary for accomplishing their desijms, all their
exploits were distinguished only by a brutal and unmeaning fury.^ To oppose
this, the princes and nobles of Suabia and the Lower Ehme rafsed such of
their vassals as still continued faithful, and attacking some of ths mutineers
with open force, and others by surprise, cut to pieces or dispersed all who
infested those provinces ; so that the peasants, after ruining the open country,
and losing upwards of twenty thousand of their associates in the field, were
obliged to return to their habitations with less hope than ever of relief from
their grievances.*"

These commotions happened at first in provinces of Germany where
Luther's opinions had made little ;progress; and being excited wnoUy by
political causes, had no connexion with the disputed points in religion. But
the frenzy reaching at last those countries in which the reformation was
established, derived new strength from circumstances peculiar to them, and
rose to a still greater pitch of extravagance. The reformation, wherever it
was received, increased that bold and innovating spirit to which it owed its
birth. Men who had the courage to overturn a system supported by every-
thing which can command respect or reverence, were not to be overawed
by any authority, how gi-eat or venerable soever. After having been accus-
tomed to consider themselves as judges of the most important doctrines in
rehgion, to examine these freely, and to reject, without scruple, what ap-
peared to them erroneous, it was natural for them to turn the same daring
and inquisitive eye towards goverinnent, and to think of rectifying whatever
disorders or imperfections were discovered there. As religious abuses had
been reformed m_ several places without the permission of the magistrate, it
was an easy transition to attempt the redress of political grievances in the
same manner.

No sooner, then, did the spirit of revolt break out in Thuringia, a province
subject to the elector of baxony, the inhabitants of which were mostly
converts to Lutheranism, than it assumed a new and more dangerous fonn.
Thomas Muncer, one of Luther's disciples, having established himself in that
country, had acquired a wonderful ascendant over the minds of the people.

»9 Skid. Hist. p. 90.

*o Seckend. lib. ii. j). 10. Petr. Gnodalius do Piustlcanorum Tumultu ia Germania,
aju Scard. Script, vol. ii. pp. 131, &c.

s

210 MUXCER AXD HIS TENETS. [BOOK IV

He propagated among them the wildest and most enthusiastic notions, but
such as tended manifestly to inspire them with boldness, and lead them to
sedition. " Luther," he told them, " had done more hurt than service to re-
ligion. He had, indeed, rescued the church from the yoke of popery, but his
doctrines encouraged, and his Hfe set an example of, the utmost licentious-
ness of mamiers. In order to avoid vice (says he), men must practise per-
petual mortification. They must put on a grave countenance, speak little,
wear a plain garb, and he serious in their whole deportment. Such as pre-

§are their hearts in tliis manner, may expect that the Supreme Being will
irect all their steps, and by some visible sign discover his will to them; if
that illumination be at any time withheld, we mav expostulate with the Al-
mighty, wJio deals with us so harshly, and remind him of his promises. This
expostulation find anger will be highly acceptable to God, and will at last
prevail on him to guide us with the same unen-ing hand which conducted the
patriarchs of old. Let us beware, however, of offending him by our arro-
gance ; but as all men are equal in his eve, let them return to that condition
of equahty in which he formed them, ani, having all things in common, let
them live together like brethren, without any marks of subordination or pre-
eminence."*^

Extravagant as these tenets were, they flattered so many passions in the
human heart, as to make a deer) impression. To aim at nothing more than
abridging the power of the nooility, was now considered as a trifling and
partial reformation, not worth the contending for ; it was proposed to level
every distinction among mankind, and, by abolishing property, to reduce
them to their natui-al state of equality, in wliich all should receive their sub-
sistence from one common stock. Muncer assured them that the design was
approved of by heaven, and that the Almighty had in a dream ascertained
hun of its success. The peasants set about the execution of it, not only with
the rage which animated those of theii* order in other parts of Germany,
but with the ardour which enthusiasm inspires. They deposed the magis-
trates in all the cities of which they were masters • seized the lands of the
nobles, and obliged such of them as they got into tneir hands, to put on the
dress commonly worn by peasants, and, instead of their former titles, to be
satisfied with the appellation g'iven to people in the lowest class of life. Great
numbers engaged m this wild undertaking; but Muncer, their leader and
their prophet, was destitute of the abilities necessary for conducting it. He
had all nie extravagance, but not the courage, wnich enthusiasts usually
possess. It was with difficulty he could be persuaded to take the field; and
though he soon drew together eight thousand men, he suffered lumself to
be surrounded by a body of cavalry under the command of the elector of
Saxony, the landgrave of Hesse, and the duke of Brunswick. These princes,
unwilling to shed the blood of their deluded subjects, sent a young noble-
man to their camp, with the offer of a general pardon, if they would imme-
diately lay down their arms, and deliver up the authors of the sedition.
Muncer, alarmed at this, began to harangue his followers with his usual vehe-
mence, exhorting them not to tmst these deceitful promises of their op-
pressors, nor to desert the cause of God and of Christian liberty.

But the sense of present danger making a deeper impression on the peasants
than his eloquence, confusion and terror were visible on every face, when a
rainbow, which was the emblem that the mutineers had painted on their
colours, happening to appear in the clouds, Muncer, with admirable presence
of mind, laid hold of that incident, and suddenly raising his eyes and hands
towards hea-^en, " Behold," cries he, with an elevated voice, " the sign wliich

" Seckend. lib. ii. p. 13. Sleid. Hist. p. 83.

J200K lY.] CONDUCT OF LUTHER. 211

God has given. There is the pledge of your ssfety, and a token that the
wicked shall be destroyed." The fanatical multitude set up instantly a great
shout, as if victory had been certain ; and passing in a moment from one
extreme to another, massacred the unfortunate nobleman who had come
with the offer of pardon, and demanded to be led towards the enemy. The
princes, enraged at this shocking violation of the laws of war, advanced with
no less impetuosity, and began the attack ; but the behaviour of the pea-
sants in the combat was not such as might have been expected, either from
their ferocity or confidence of success ; an undisciplined rabble was no equaJ
match for well-trained troops*; above five thousand were slain in the field,
almost without making resistance ; the rest fled, and among the foremost
Muncer their general. He was taken next day, and being condemned to such
punishments as his crimes had deserved, he suffered them with a poor and das-
tardlv spirit. His death put an end to the insuiTCctions of tiie peasants,
which had fiUed Germany with such terrors ;*- but the enthusiastic notions
which he had scattered were not extirpated, and produced, not long after,
effects more memorable as well as more extravagant.

During these commotions, Luther acted with exemplary prudence and mo-
deration, like a common parent, solicitous about the welfare of both parties,
without sparing the faults or errors of either. On the one hand, he adaressed
a monitory discourse to the nobles, exhorting them to treat their dependents
with greater humanity and indulgence. On the other, he severely censured
the seditious spirit of the peasants, advising them not to mui-mur at hard-
ships inseparable from then- condition, nor to seek for redress by any but
legal means. ■'^

Luther's famous marriage with Catherine a Bona, a nun of a noble family,
who, having thrown off the veil, had fled from the cloister, happened this
year, and was far from meeting with the same approbation. Even his most
devoted followers thought this step indecent, at a time when Ms country
was involved in so many calamities ; while his enemies never mentioned it
with any softer appellation than that of incestuous or profane. Luther
himself was sensible of the impression which it had made to his disadvantage ;
but being satisfied with his own conduct, he bore the censure of his friends,
and the reproaches of his adversaries, with his usual fortitude.**

Tliis year the refoiTQation lost its first protector, Frederic, elector of Saxony;
but the blow was the less sensibly felt, as he was succeeded by his brother
John, a more avowed and zealous, though less able patron of Luther and his
doctrines.

Another event happened about the same time, which, as it occasioned a
considerable change in the state of Germany, must be traced back to its
som'ce. Wliile the frenzy of the crusades possessed all Europe during the
twelfth and thu-teenth centuries, several orders of religious knighthood were
founded in defence of the Christian faith against heathens and infideb.
Among these, the Teutonic order in Germany was one of the most illus-
trious, the knights of which distinguished themselves greatly in all the enter-
prises carried on in the Holy Land. Being driven at last from their settle-
ments in the East, they were obliged to return to theii' native country. Their
zeal and valour were too impetuous to remain long inactive ; they invaded,
on very slight pretences, the province of Prussia, the inliabitants of which
were still idolaters ; and, having comi)leted the conquest of it about the
middle of the thirteenth century, held it many years as a fief depending on
the crown of Poland. Pierce contests arose, during this period, between

*^ Sleid. Hist. p. 84. Seckend. lib. ii. p. 12. Gnodalius, Tumult. Eustican. p. 155.
" Sleid. Hist. p. 87. ■»* Seckend. lib. ii. p. 15.

p2

212 rHANCIS ELUDES THE TBEATY OF MADRID. [BOOK IV.

the ^and-masters of tlie order and the kings of Poland ; the former struggling
for mdependence, while the latter asserted their right of sovereignty with
great firmness. Albert, a prince of the house of Brandenburg, who was
elected grand-master iu the vear one thousand five hundred and eleven, en-
gaged keenly in this quarrel, and maiutained a long war with Sigismund,
king of Poland ; but having become an early convert to Luther's doctrines,
this gradually lessened his zeal for the interests of his fraternity, so that he
took the opportunity of the confusions in the empire, and the absence of the
emperor, to conclude a treaty with Sigismund. greatly to his own private
emolument. By it, that part of Prussia which belonged to the Teutonic
order was erected into a secular and hereditary duchy, and the investitui'e
of it granted to Albert, who, in return, bound himseK to do homage for it to
the knigs of Poland as their vassal. Immediately after this, he made public
profession of the reformed religion, and married a princess of Denmark. The
Teutonic knights exclaimed so loudly agamst the treacherv of their grand-
master, that he was put under the ban of the empire ; but he still kept pos-
session of the province whicli he had usurped, and transmitted it to his pos-
terity. Li i)rocess of time, this rich inheritance fell to the electoral branch
of the family , all dependence on the crown of Poland was shaken ofi' ; and
the margraves of Brandenburg, having assumed the title of kings of Prussia,
have not only risen to an equality with the first princes of Germany, but take
their rank among the ^reat monarchs of Europe.''^

Upon the return ot the Erench king to his dominions, the eyes of all the
powers^ in Europe were fixed upon him, that, by observing his first motions,
they might form a judgment concerning his subsequent conduct. They were
not held long in suspense. Eraucis. as soon as he arrived at Bayonne, wi'ote
to the king of England, thankmg nun for the zeal and affection wherewith
he had interposed in his favour, to which he acknowledged that he owed the
recovery of his^ liberty. Next day, the emperor's ambassadors demanded
audience, and, in their master's name, required liim to issue such orders as
were necessary for can-jing the treaty of Madrid into immediate and full
execution ; he coldly answered, that though, for his own part, he determined
reHgiously to perform all that he had promised, the treaty contamed so manv
articles relative not to liimself alone, but alFecting the interests of the Erench
monarchv, that he could not take any farther step without consulting the
states 01 liis kingdom, and that some time would be necessary, in order to
reconcile their nunds to the hard conditions which he had consented to ratify.^^
This reply was considered as no obscure discovery of his being resolved to
elude the treaty ; and the compliment paid to Hem-y appeared a very proper
step towards securing the assistance of that monarch m the war with the
emperor, to which such a resolution would certainly give rise. These circmn-
stances, added to the exphcit declarations which Erancis made in secret to
the ambassadors from several of the Italian powers, fuUy satisfied them that
their conjectui-es with regard to his conduct had been just, and that instead of
intending to execute an unreasonable treaty, he was eager to seize the first
opportunity of reversing those injuries which had compelled him_ to feign an
approbation of it. Even the doubts, and fears, and scruples, which used, on
other occasions, to hold Clement m a state of uncertainty, were dissipated
by Erancis's seeming^ impatience to break tlu-ou^h all his engagements with
tne emperor. The situation, indeed, of aifairs m Italy at that time did not
allow the pope to hesitate long. Sforza was still besieged by the imperiahsts
in the castle of Milan. That feeble prince, deprived now of Morone's advice,

« Sleid. Hist. p. 98. PfefFel, Abrege de I'Hist. du Droit Publ. pp. 606, &c.
« M^m. de Bellay, p. 97.

BOOK IV.] LEAGUE AGATXST THE E3IPEE0E. 213

and unprovided with eveiything necessary for defence, found means to in-
form clement and the Venetians that he must soon surrender, if they did
not come to his relief. The imperial troops, as they had received no pay
since the battle of Pavia, lived at discretion in the Milanese, levying such ex-
orbitant contributions in that duchy as amounted, if we may rely on Guicciar-
duii's calculation, to no less a sum than five thousand ducats a day f nor
was it to be doubted but that the soldiers, as soon as the castle should sub-
mit, would choose to leave a ruined country, which hardly afforded them sub-
sistence, that they might take possession of more comfortable quarters^ in
the fertile and untouched territories of the pope and Yenetians. The assist-
ance of the Erench king was the only thing^ which could either save Sforza,
or enable them to protect their own dominions from the insults of the im-
perial troops.

Eor these reasons, the pope, the Yenetians, and duke of Milan, were equally
impatient to come to an agi-eement with Erancis, who, on his part, was no less
desirous of acquiring such a considerable accession both of strength and
reputation as such a confederacy would bring along with it. The chief ob-
jects of this alliance, which was concluded at Cognac on the twenty-second of
May, though kept secret for some time, were to oblige the emperor to set at
liberty the French king's sons upon payment of a reasonable ransom, and to
re-establish Sforza in the quiet possession of the Milanese. If Charles should
refuse either of these, the contracting parties bound themselves to bring into
the field an army of thirty-five thousand men, with which, after driving the
Spaniards out of the Milanese, they would attack the kingdom of Naples.
The king of England was declared protector of this league, which they dig-
nified with the name of holy, because the pope was at the head of it ; and in
order to allure Henry more effectually, a principality in the kingdom^ of
Naples, of thirty thousand ducats' yearly revenue, was to be settled; on him;
and lands to the value often thousand ducats on Wolsey, his favourite.*^

No sooner was this league concluded than Clement, by the plenitude of his
papal power, absolved Erancis from the oath which he had t^en to observe
the treaty of Madrid.*^ This right, how peimicious soever in its effects, and
destructive of that integrity which is the basis of all transactions among men,
was the natural consequence of the powers wliich the popes arrogated as the
infallible vicegerents of Christ upon earth. But as, in virtue of this pre-
tended prerogative, they had often dispensed Avith obligations wliich were
held sacred, the interest of some men, and the credulity of others, led them to
imagine that the decisions of a sovereign pontiff authorized or justified actions
which would otherwise have been criminal and impious.

The discovery of Erancis's intention to elude the treaty of Madrid, filled
the emperor with a variety of disquieting thoughts. He had treated an
unfortunate prince in the most ungenerous_ maimer ; he had displayed an in-
satiable ambition in all his negotiations with his prisoner ; he knew what
censures the former had drawn upon him, and what apprehensions the latter
had excited in every court of Eui'ope ; nor had he reaped from the measures
w;hich he pursued any of those advantages which politicians are apt to con-
sider as an excuse for the most criminal conduct, and a compensation for the
severest reproaches. Erancis was now out of his hands, and not one of
aU the mignty consequences which he had expected from the treaty that set
him at liberty was likely to take place. His rashness in relying_ so far on his
own judgment as to trust to the sincerity of the Erench king, in opposition

*' Guic. lib. xvii. 360.

■•» P. Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib. is. cli. 3, p. 217. Recueil des Trait, ii. 124.

^ Goldast: Polit. Imperial, p. 1002. Pallav. Hist. p. 70.

tl4i THE EMPEHOR's MESSAGE TO TEAXCIi. [BOOK IV.

to tlie sentiments of liis wisest ministers, was now apparent ; and lie easily
conjectured that the same confederacy, the dread of which had induced him
to set Francis at liberty, would now be formed against him, with that gallant
and incensed monarch at its head. Self-condemnation and shame on account
of what was past, with anxious apprehensions concerning what might happen,
were the necessary result of these reflections on his own _ conduct and situa-
tion. Charles, however, was naturally firm and inflexible in all his measures.
To have receded suddenly from any article in the treaty of Madrid, would
have been a plain confession of impmdence, and a palpable symptom of fear ;
he determined, therefore, that it was most suitable to his_ dignity to insist,
whatever might be the consequences, on the strict execution of the treaty,
and particularly not to accept of anything which might be offered as an
equivalent for the restitution of Burgundy,^''

In consequence of this resolution, he appointed Lannoy and Alarcon
to repair, as his ambassadors, to the court of Prance, and formally to sum-
mon the king, either to execute the treaty with the sincerity that became him,
or to return, according to his oath, a prisoner to Madrid. Instead of giving
them an immediate answer, Erancis admitted the deputies of the states of
Burgundy to an audience in their presence. They humbly represented to
him that he had exceeded the powers vested in a king of France when he con-
sented to alienate their country from the crown, the domains of which he
was bound by his coronation-oath to preserve entire and unimpaired. Francis.
in return, thanked them for their attachment to his cro\vn, and entreated
them, though very faintly, to remember the obligations which he lay under to
fulfil his engagements with the emperor. The deputies, assuming a higher
tone, declared that they would not obey commands which they considered as
illegal ; and if he should abandon them to the enemies of France, they had
resolved to defend themselves to the best of their power, with a firm pur-
pose rather to perish than submit to a foreign dominion. Upon which
Francis, turning towards the imperial ambassadors, represented to^ them
the impossibility of performing what he had undertaken, and offered, in lieu
of Burgundy, to pay the emperor two millions of crowns. The viceroy and
Alarcon, who easily perceived that the scene to which they had been witnesses
was concerted between the king and his subjects in order to impose upon
them, signified to him their master's fixed resolution not to depart in the
smallest poiut from the terms of the treaty, and withdrew.** Before they left
the kiiigaom,_ they had the mortification to hear the holy league against the
emperor published with great solemnity.

Charles no sooner received an account of this confederacy, than he ex-
claimed, in the most j)ublic mamier, and in the harshest terms, against Francis,
as a prince void of faith and of honour. He complained no less of Clement,
whom he solicited in vain to abandon his new alHes ; he accused him of in-
gratitude ; he taxed him with an ambition mibecoming his character ; he
threatenea him, not only with all the vengeance which the power of an eni-
peror can inflict, but, by appealing to a general council, called up before his
eves all the terrors arising from the authority of those assemblies, so forinid-
able to the papal see. It was necessary, however, to oppose something
else than reproaches and threats to the powerful combination formed against
him ; and the emperor, prompted by so many passions, did not fail to exert
himself with unusual vigour, in order to send supplies, not only of men, but
of money, which was still more needed, into Italy.

On the other hand, the efforts of the confederates bore no proportion to

50 Guic. lib. xvii. 366.

51 Belcar. Comment, de Eeb Gal. p. 573. Mem. de Bellay, p. 97.

BOOK IV. 1 OPERATIONS OF THE CONPEDEUATES. 219

that animosity against the emperor \rith which they seemed to enter into
the holy le^ue. Francis, it was thought, would have infused spirit and
vigour into the whole body. He had his lost honour to repair, many injuries
to revenge, and the station among the princes of Europe, Irom wliich he had
fallen, to recover. From all these powerful incitements, added to the natural
impetuosity of his temper, a war more fierce and bloody than any that he had
hitnei-to made upon his rival, wjis expected. But Francis had ^one through
such a scene of distress, and the impression it had made was still so fresh in
his memory, that he was become diffident himself, distrustful of fortune, and
desirous of tranquillity. To procure the release of his sons, and to avoid the
restitution of Burguudv by paying some reasonable equivalent, were his
chief objects ; and for the sake of these, he would willingly have sacrificed
Sforza and the liberties of Italy to the emperor. He flattered himself that
the dread of the confederacy which he had formed wo'ild of itself induce
Charles to listen to what was equitable ; and was afraid of employing any
considerable force for the relief of the Milanese, lest his allies, whom he had
often found to be more attentive to their own interest than punctual in fiil-
filhng their engagements, should abandon him as soon as the imperialists were
driven out of that country, and deprive his negotiations with tlie emperor of
that weight which they aerived from his being at the head of a powerful
league. In the meantime the castle of Milan was pressed more closely than
ever, and Sforza was now reduced to the last extremity. The pope and Vene-
tians, tnisting to Francis's concurrence, commanded their troops to take the
field in order to relieve him, and an army more than sufficient for that service
was soon formed. The Milanese, passionately attached to their unfortunate
duke, and no less exasperated against the imperialists, who had oppressed
them so cruellv, were ready to aid the confederates in all their enterprises.
But the duke d'Urbuio, their general, naturally slow and indecisive, and re-
strained, l)esides, by his ancient enmity to the family of Medici from taking
any step that might aggrandize or add reputation to the pope,^- lost some
opportunities of attacking the imperialists and raising the siege, and refused
to improve others. These delays gave Bourbon time to bring up a reinforce-
ment of fresh troops and a supply of money. He immediately took the com-
mand of the army, and pushed on the siege with such vigour, as quickly obKged
Sforza to surrender, who, retiring to Lodi, which the confederates had sur-
prised, left Bourbon in full possession of the rest of the duchy, the investi-
ture of which the emperor had promised to grant him.^^

The Italians began now to perceive the game which Francis had played, and
to be sensible that, notwithstanding all their addi-ess and refinements in nego-
tiation, which they boasted of as talents peculiarly their own, they had for
once been over-reached in those very arts by a tramontane prince. He had
hitherto thrown almost the whole burden of the war upon them, taking advan-
tage of their efforts, in order to enforce the proposals which he often renewed
at the court of Madrid for obtaining the liberty of liis sons. The pope and Ve-
netians expostulated and complained ;^* but as they were not able to rouse
Francis from his inactivity, their own zeal and vigour gradually abated ; and
Clement, having already gone farther than his timidity usually permitted him,
began to accuse himself of rashness, and to relapse into his natui'al state of
doubt and uncertainty.

All the emperor's motions, depending on himself alone, were more brisk
and better concerted. The narrowness of his revenues, indeed, did not allow
him to make any sudden or great effort in the field, but he abundantly supplied

52 Guic. lib. xvii. p. 382. ss Id. ibid. pp. 376, &c. .

5« Ruscelli, Lettere de' Principi, ii pp. 157, &c. 159, IGO— 166.

216 THE COLONNAS MASTERS OF ROME. [bOOK IV,

that defect by his intrigues and negotiations. The family of Colonna, the most
powerful of all the Roman barons, had adhered uniformly to the Ghibelline or
imperial faction, during those fierce contentions between the popes and
emperors which, for several ages, filled Italy and Germany with discord and
bloodshed. Though the causes which at first gave birth to these destructive
factions existed no longer, and the rage with which they had been animated
was in a great measure spent, the Colonnas still retained their attachment
to the imperial interest, and, b;^ placing themselves under the protection
of the emperors, secured the quiet possession of their own territories and
privileges. The cardinal Pompeo Colonna, a man of a turbulent and ambi-
tious temper, at that time the head of the familjr, had long been Clement's
rival, to whose influence in the last conclave he imputed the disappointment
of all his schemes for attaining the papal dignity, of which, from his known
connexion with the emperor, he thought himself secure. To an aspiring mind,
this was an injury too great to be forgiven; and though he had dissembled his
resentment so far as to vote for Clement at his election, and to accept of
great offices in his court, he waited with the utmost impatience for an oppor-
tunity of being revenged. Don Hugo de Moncada, the imperial ambassador
at Eome, who was no stranger to these sentiments, easily persuaded him that
now was the time, while all the papal troops were employed in Lombardy, to
attempt something, which would at once avenge liis own wrongs, and be of
essential service to the emperor, his patron. The pope, however, whose
timidity rendered liim quick-sighted, was so attentive to their operations, and
began to be alarmed so early, that he might have drawn together troops suffi-
cient to have disconcerted all Colonna's measures. But Moncada amused him
so artfully with neg9tiations, promises, and false intelligence, that he lulled
asleep all his suspicions, and prevented his taking any of the precautions ne-
cessary for his safety ; and, to the disgrace of a prince possessed of great
power, as well as renowned for political wisdom, Colonna, at the head of three
thousand men, seized one of the gates of his capital, while he, imagining him-
self to be in perfect security, was altogether unprepared for resisting such a
feeble enemy. The inhabitants of Rome permitted Colonna's troops, from
whom they apprehended no injury, to advance \vithout opposition; the pope's
guards were dispersed in a moment ; and Clement himseK, terrified at the
danger, ashamed of his own credulity, and deserted by almost every person,
fled with precipitation into the castle of St. Angelo, which was immediately
invested. The palace of the Vatican, the church of St. Peter, and the houses
of the pope's ministers and servants, were plundered in the most licentious
manner. The rest of the city was left unmolested. Clement, destitute of
everything necessary either for subsistence or defence, was soon obHged to
demand a capitulation ; and Moncada being admitted into the castle, pre-
scribed to him, with all the haughtiness of a conqueror, conditions which it
was not in his power to reject. The chief of these was, that Clement should
not only grant a full pardon to the Colonnas, but receive them into favour,
and immediately withdraw all the troops in his pay from the army of the con-
federates in Lombardy.^^

The Colomias, who talked of nothing less than of deposingClement, and of
placing Pompeo, their kinsman, in the vacant chair of St. Peter, exclaimed
loudly against a treaty which left them at the mercy of a pontiff justly in-
censed against them. But Moncada, attentive only to his master's interest,
paid little regard to their complaints, and, by this fortunate measure, broke
entirely the power of the confederates.

** Jovii Vita Pomp. Colon. Guic. lib. svii. p. 407. Euscelli, Lettere de' Principi,
1.104.

BOOK. IV.] THE IMPERIAL AEMY REINFORCED. 217

While the army of the confederates suffered such a considerable diminution,
tlie imperialists received two great reinforcements ; one from SpaLa. under the
command of Lannoy and Alareon, wliich amounted to six. thousand men ; the
other was raised in the empire by George Fronsperg, a German nobleman, who.
having served in Italy witu great reputation, had acquired such influence and
popularity, that multitudes of liis countrymen, fond on every occasion of en-
gaging in military enterprises, and impatient at that juncture to escape from
the oppression which they felt in religious as wcU as civil matters, crowded
bo Ms standard ; so that, without any other gratuity than the payment of a
crown to each man, fourteen thousand enlisted in liis service. To these the
Archdijce Ferdinand added two thousand horse, levied in the Austrian domi-
nions. But although tlie emperor had raised troops, he could not remit the
sums necessary for their support. His. ordmary revenues were exhausted :
the credit of princes, duriunj the infancy of commerce, was not extensive ; and
the cortes of Castile, though every art had been tried to gain them, and some
innovations had been made in the constitution, in order to secure their con-
currence, peremptorily refused to grant Charles any extraordinary supply ;^^
so that the more nis army increased in number the more were his generals em-
barrassed and distressed. Bourbon, in particular, was involved m such diffi-
culties, that he stood in need of all his adoress and courage in order to extricate
himself. Large sums were due to the Spanish troops already in the Milanese,
when Tronsperg arrived with sixteen thousand hungry Germans, destitute of
everything. Both made their demands with equal fierceness; the former
claimiQg tneir arrears, and the latter the pay which had been promised them
on tkeir entering Lombardy. Bourbon was altogether incapable of giving
satisfaction to either. In this situation he was constrained to commit acts of
violence extremely shocking to his ovm nature, which was generous and hu-
mane. He seized the principal citizens of Milan, and by threats, and even bv
torture, forced from them a considerable sum ; he rifled the churches of aU.
their plate and ornaments ; the inadequate supply which these afforded he dis-
tributed among the soldiers, with so many sootning expressions of his sym-
pathy and affection, that, though it fell far short of the sums due to them, it
appeased their present murmurs,^'

Among other expedients for raising money, Bourbon granted his life and
liberty to Morone, who, having been kept m prison since his intrigue witE
Pescara, had been condemned to die by the Spanish'judges empowered to try
him. For this remission he paid twenty thousand ducats ; and such were hi^
singular talents, and the wonderful ascendant which he always acquired oyer
the miads of those to whom he had access, that, in a few days, from being
Bourbon's prisoner, he became his prime confidant, with whom he consulted
in all affairs of importance. To his insiauations must be imputed the suspi-
cions which Bourbon began to entertain, that the emperor had never intended
to grant him the investiture of Milan, but had appointed Leyva, and the
other Spanish generals, rather to be spies on his conduct, than to co-operate
heartily towards the execution of his schemes. To him likewise, as he still
retained, at the a^e of fourscore, all the enterprising spirit of youth, may be
attributed the bold and unexpected measure on which Bourbon soon after ven-
tured.^

Such, indeed,_ were the exigencies of the imperial troops in the Milanese,
that it became indispensably necessary to take some immediate step for their
relief. The arrears of the soldiers increased daily ; the emperor made no re-
mittances to his generals ; and the utmost rigour of nuhtary extortion could

»« Sandov. i. 814. s^ Ripamond. Hist. Mediol. lib. ix. p. 717.

M Guic. lib. xvii. p. 419.

218 B0U11J3ON INVADES THE POPE'S TEREITOEIES. [BOOK 17.

draw nothing more ^m a country entirely drained and ruined. In this situa-
tion there was no choice left, but either to disband the army, or to march for
subsistence into the enemy's country. The territories of the Venetians lay
nearest at hand ; but they, with their usual foresight and prudence, had taken
such precautions as secured them from any insult. Nothing, therefore, re-
mained but to invade the dominions of the Church, or of the Florentines ;
and Clement had of late acted such a part as merited the severest ven-
geance from the emperor. No sooner dicl the papal troops return to Rome
after the insurrection of the Colonnas, than, without paying any regard to the
treaty with Moncada, he degraded the Cardiual Colonna, exconununicated the
rest of the family, seized their places of strength, and wasted their lands
with all the cruelty which the smart of a recent injury naturally excites.
After this he turned his arms against Naples, and as his operations were
seconded by the Trench fleet, he made some progress towards the conquest
of that kingdom ; the viceroy being no less destitute than the other imperial
generals of the money requisite for a vigorous defence.^^

[1527.] These proceedings of the pope justified, in appearance, the mea-
sures which Bourbon's situation rendered necessary ; and he set about exe-
cuting them under such disadvantages as furnish the strongest proof both of
the despair to which he was reduced, and of the greatness of^his abilities,
which were able to surmount so many obstacles. Having committed the go-
vernment of Milan to Leyva, whom he was not unwilling to leave behind, he
began his march in the depth of winter, at the head of twenty-five thousand
men, composed of nations differing frorn each other in language and manners,
without money, without magazines, without artillery, without carriages ; in
short, without any of those things which are necessary to the smallest party,
and which seem essential to the existence and motions of a great army. His
route lay through a country cut by rivers and mountains, in which the
roads were almost impracticable : as an addition to his diliiculties, the enemy's
army, superior to his own in number, was at hand to watch all his motions,
and to improve every advantage. But his troops, impatient of their present
hardsliips, and aUured by the hopes of immense booty, without considering
how ill provided they were for a march, foUoM^ed him with great cheer-
.fdness. His first scheme was to have made himself master of Placentia, and
to have gratified his soldiers by the plunder of that city : but the vigilance of
the confederate generals rendered the design abortive; nor had he better
success in his project for the reduction of Bologna, wliich was seasonably sup-

Elied with as many troops as secured it from the insults of an army wliich
ad neither artillery nor ammunition. Having failed in both these attempts
to Ibecome master of some great city, he was under a necessity of advancing.
But he had now been two months in the field ; his troops had suffered every
calamity that a long march, together with the uncommon rigour of the season,
could bring upon men destitute of all necessary accommodations in an enemy's
country ; the magnificent promises to which they trusted had hitherto proved
altogether vain; they saw no prospect of relief ; their patience, tried to the
utmost, failed at last, and they broke out into open mutiny. Some ofiicers,
who rashly attempted to restrain them, fell victims to their fury : Bourbon
himself, not daring to appear during the first transports of their rage, was
obliged to fly secretly from his quarters.^" But this sudden ebullition ol
wrath began at last to subside, when Bourbon, who possessed, in a wonderful
degree, the art of goveniing the mmds of soldiers, renewed his promises with
more confidence than formerly, and assured them that they would be soon

59 Jovii Vita Pomp. Colon. Guic. lib. xviii. p. 424.
«o Guic. lib. xviii. p. 434. Jovii Vit. Colon, p, 163

BOOK IV J CLr;MENT*S TREATY WITH LA3JN0Y. 319

accomplished. He endeavoured to render their hardships more tolerable by
partaking of them himself ; he fared no better than the meanest sentinel ; he
marched alon^ with them oiv foot ; he joined them in singing then: camp
ballads, in which, with high praises of his valour, they mingled many strokes
of military raillery on Ms poverty ; and wherever tliey came, he allowed them,
as a foretaste of what he had promised, to plunder the adjacent villages at
discretion. Encouraged by all these soothing arts, they entirely forgot their
sufferings and complaiuts, and followed him with the same implicit confi-
dence as formerly .''i

Bourbon, meanwhile, carefully concealed liis intentions. Rome and Tlo-
rencCj not knowing on which the blow would fall, were held in the most dis-
quietmg state of suspense. Clement, equally solicitous for the safety of both,
fluctuated in more than his usual uncertainty ; and while the rapid approach
of danger called for prompt and decisive measui'cs, he spent the tune in
deliberations which came to no issue, or in takiu^ resolutions, which, next
day, his restless mind, more sagacious in discerning than in obviating diffi-
culties, overturned without being able to fix on what should be substituted in
their place. At one time he determined to unite himself more closely than
ever with his allies, and to push on the war with vigour ; at another, he in-
clined to bring all diiFerences to a final accommodation by a treaty with
Lannoy, who, knowing his passion for negotiation, solicited him incessantly
with proposals for that purpose. His timidity at length prevailed, and lea
him to conclude an agreement with Lannoy, of which the following were the
chief articles : That a suspension of arms should take place between the pon-
tifical and imperial troops for eight months : that Clement should advance
sixty thousand crowns towards satisfying the demands of the imperial army :
that the Colonnas should be absolved from censure, and their former dignities
and possessions be restored to them : that the viceroy should come to Rome,
and prevent Bourbon from approaching nearer to that city, or to Elorence.'^
On tnis hasty treaty, which deprived him of aU hopes of assistance from his
allies, without affording him any solid foujidation of security, Clement relied
so firmly, that, like a man extricated at once out of all difficulties, he was
at perfect ease ; and, in the fulness of his confidence, disbanded all his troops,
except as many as were sufficient to guard his own person. This amazmg
confidence of Clement, who, on every other occasion, was fearful and suspi-
cious to excess, appeared so unaccountable to Guicciardini, who, being at that
time the pontifical commissary-general and resident in the confederate army,
had great opportunities, as well as great abilities, for observing how cliimerical
ail his hopes were, that he imputes the pope's conduct, at this jmicture, wholly
to infatuation, which those who are doomed to ruin cannot avoid.*'''

Lannoy, it would seem, intended to have executed the treaty with great sin-
cerity ; and having detached Clement from the confederacy, wished to turn
Bourbon's army against the Venetians, who, of all the powers at war with
the enaperor, had exerted the greatest vigour. With this view he despatched
a courier to Bourbon, informing him of the suspension of arms, which, in the
name of their common master, he had concluded with the pope. Bourbon
had other schemes, and he had prosecuted them now too far to think of re-
treating. To have mentioned a retreat to his soldiers would have been
daii^erous ; his command was independent of Lannoy ; he was fond of mor-
tifying a man whom he had many reasons to hate : for these reasons, without
paying the least regard to the message, he continued to ravage the ecclesias-
tical territories, and to advance towards Morence. Upon this, aU Clement's

8' CEuvres de Brant. voL iv. pp. 246, &c.

« Guic. lib. xviii. p. 436. " ibid. p. 446.

220 SOURBON ENCAMPS IN THE PLAINS OF EOME. [BOOK IV.

terror and anxiety; returning with new force, lie had recoiu'se to Lamioy, and
entreated and conjured liim to put a stop to Bourbon's progress. Lannoy,
accordingly,^ set out for his camp, but durst not approach it; Bourbon's
soldiers having got notice of the truce, raged and threatened, demandiag the
accomplishment of the promises to which they had trusted ; their general nim-
self could hardly restrain them -, every person in Rome perceived that nothing
remained but to prepare for resisting a storm which it was now impossible to
dispel. Clement alone, relying on some ambiguous and deceitful professions,
which Bourbon made of his inclination towards peace, sunk back into his
former security.*'*

Bourbon, on his part, vi^as far from bein^ free from solicitude. All his
attempts on any place of importance had hitherto miscarried ; and Eloreuce,
towards which he had been approaching for some tune, was, by the arrival of
the duke d'Urbino's army, put m a condition to set his power at defiance. As
it now became necessary to change his route, and to take instantly some new
resolution, he fixed, without hesitation, on one which was no less daring in
itself than it was impious, according to the opinions of that age. This was to
assault and plunder Kome. Many reasons, however, prompted him to it. He
was fond of thwarting Lannoy, who had undertaken for the safety of that city ;
he unagined that the emperor would be highly pleased to see Clement, the
chief author of the league against him, humbled > ne flattered himself that, by-
gratifying the rapacity of his soldiers with such immense booty, he would attacn
them for ever to his interest; or (which is still more probable than any of
these) he hoped, that, by means of the power and fame which he would ac-
quire from the conquest of the first city in Christendom, he might lay the
foundation of an independent power ; and that, after shaking ofi' all comiexion
with the emperor, he might take possession of Naples, or of some of the Italian
states, in his own name.^^

"Whatever his motives were, he executed his resolution with a rapidity
equal to the boldness with which he had formed it. His soldiers, now that
they had their prey full in view, complained neither of fatigue, nor famine, nor
want of pay. iN o sooner did they begin to move from Tuscany towards Rome,
than the pope, sensible at last how fallacious the hopes had been on which he
reposed, started from his security. But no time now remained, even for a
bold and decisive pontiff, to have taken proper measures, or to have formed
any effectual plan of defence. Under Clement's feeble conduct, all was con-
sternation, disorder, and irresolution. He collected, however, such of his
disbanded soldiers as still remained in the city; he armed the artificers of
Rome, and the footmen ajid trainbearers of the cardinals; he repaired the
breaches in the walls; ne began to erect new works; he excommunicated
Bourbon and all liis troops, branding the Germans with the name of Lu-
therans, and the Spaniards with that of Moors.®*^ Trusting to these ineffectual
military preparations, or to his spiritual arms, which were still more despised
by rapacious soldiers, he seems to have laid aside his natui-al timidity, and^con-
trary to the advice of all his counsellors, determined to wait the approach of
an enemy whom he might easily have avoided by a timely retreat.

Bourbon, who saw the necessity of despatch, now that his intentions were
known, advanced with such speed, that he gained several marches on the duke
d'Urbino's armv, and encami)ed in the plains of Rome on the evening of the
fifth of May. iB'rom thence he showed his soldiers the palaces and churches
of that city, into which, as the capital of the Christian commonwealth, the

" Gnic. lib. xviii. pp. 437, &c. M^m. de^ellay, p. 100.

«5 Brant, iv. p. 271, vi. p '""
«8 Seckend. lib. ii. p. 68.

«5 Brant, iv. p. 271, vi. p. 189. Belcarii Comment, p. 594.
', lib. ii.

BOOK IV.l ASSAULT AND CAriURE OF THE CITY CT ROME. 22"*

riches of all Europe had flowed during many centuries, without having been
once violated by any hostile hand; and commanding them to refresh themselves
that night, as a preparation for the assault next day, promised them, in reward
of their toils and valour, the possession of all the treasures accumulated
there. •

Earlv in the morning, Bourbon, who_ had determined to distinguish that
day either by his death or the success of his enterijrise, appeared at the head of
his troops clad in complete armour, above which he wore a vest of white
tissue, tnat he misht be more conspicuous both to his friends and to his
enemies ; and, as all depended on one bold impression, he led them instantly
to scale the walls. Tlu:ee distinct bodies, one of Germans, another of
Spaniards, and the last of Italians, — the three different nations of whom the
army was composed, — were appointed to this service ; a separate attack was
assigned to each ; and the whole army advanced to support them, as occasion,
should require. A thickniist concealed their approach until they reached
aknost the brink of the ditch which surrounded the suburbs : having planted
their ladders in a moment, each brigade rushed on to the assault with an impe-
tuosity heightened by national emulation. They were received at first with
fortitude equal to their own ; the Swiss in the pope's guards, and the veteran
soldiers who had been assembled, fought with a courage becoming men to
whom the defence of the noblest city m the world was intrusted. Boui'bon's
troops, notwithstanding all their valour, gained no ground, and evenbe^-anto
give way; whentheii* leader, perceiving that on tliis critical moment the fate of
the day depended, leaped from his horse, pressed to the front, snatched a
scaling ladder from a soldier, planted it against the wall, and began to mount
it, encouraging his men with his voice and hand to follow him. But at that
very instant, a musket bullet from the ramparts pierced his groin with a
wound, which he immediately felt to be mortal ; but he retained so much pre-
sence of mind as to desire those who were near him to cover his body with a
cloak, that his death might not dishearten his troops; and soon after, he ex-

Eired with a courage worthy of a better cause, and wliich would have entitled
im to the highest praise, if he had thus fallen in defence of his country, not
at the head of its enemies.®^

This fatal event could not be concealed from the army ; the soldiers soon
missed their general, whom they were accustomed to see in every time of
danger : but mstead of beiu^ disheartened by their loss, it animated them
with new valour ; the name ot Bourbon resounded alon^ the line, accompanied
with the cry of hlood and revenge. The veterans who defended the walls were
soon overpowered by numbers ; the untrained body of city recruits lied at
the sight of danger, and the enemy, with in-esistible violence, rushed mto the
town.

Dui-ing the combat, Clement was employed at the high altar of St. Peter's
church in offering up to heaven unavailing prayers for victorv. No sooner
was he informed that his troops began to give way, fhau he fled with precipi-
tation; and with an infatuation_ still more amazing than anything already
mentioned, instead of making his escape by the opposite gate, where there
was no enemy to oppose it, he shut himself up, together with thirteen cardinals,
the foreign ambassadors, and many persons of distinction, in the castle of St.
Angelo, which, from his late misfortune, he mi^ht have known to be an inse-
cure retreat. In his way from the Yatican to that fortress, he saw his troops
fljing before an enemy who pursued without giving quarter ; he heard the
cries and lamentations of the lloman citizens, and beheld the beginning ot

•' Mdm. de Bellav, p. 101. Guic. lib. xviil. pp. 445, &c. (Euv. de Brant, iv. pp.
257, &c.

222 THE POPE TAKEN PBISONER. LbOOK H.

those calamities which his own credulity and ill-conduct had brought upon his
subjects.^^

It is impossible to describe, or even to imagine, the misery and horror of
that scene which followed. Whatever a city taken by storm can dread from
military rage, unrestrained by discipline ; whatever excesses the ferocity of the
Germans, the avarice of the Spamards, or the licentiousness of the Italians,
could commit, these the wretched inhabitants were obliged to suffer. Churches,
palaces, and the houses of private persons, were plundered ^vithout distinc-
tion. No age, or character, or sex, was exempt from injury. Cardinals,
nobles, priests, matrons, virgms, were all the prey of soldiers, and at the mercy
of men deaf to the voice of humanity. Nor did these outrages cease, as is
usual in towns which are carried by assault, when the first fury of the storm
was over; the imperialists kept possession of Rome several months- and,
during all that tune, the insolence and brutality of the soldiers hardly abated.
Their booty in ready money alone amounted to a million of ducats ; what they
raised by ransoms and exactions far exceeded that sum. Rome, though taken
several different times by the northern nations, who overran the empire in the
fifth and sixth centuries, was never treated with so much cruelty by the bar-
barous and heathen Huns, Vandals, or Goths, as now by the bigoted subjects
of a catholic monarch.^^

After Bourbon's death, the command of the imperial army devolved on
Philibei-t de Chalons, prince of Orange, who with difficulty prevailed on as
many of his soldiers to desist from the pillage as were necessary to invest the
castle of St. Angelo. Clement was immediately sensible of his error in having
retired into that ill-provided and untenable fort. But as the imperialists,
scorning disciphne, and intent only on plunder, pushed the siege with Kttle
vigour, he did not despair of holding out until the duke d'Urbino could come
to his relief. That general advanced at the head of an army composed of
Venetians, Florentines, and Swiss, in the pay of France, of sufficient strength
to have dcKvered Clement from the present danger. But d'Urbino, preferring
the indulgence of his hatred against the family of Medici to the glory of de-
livering the capital of Christendom, and the head of the church, pronounced
the enterprise to be too hazardous ; and, from an exquisite refinement in re-
venge, having marched forward so far, that his army, being seen from the
ramparts of St. Angelo, flattered the pope with the prospect of certain relief,
he immediately wheeled about, andretired.^" Clement, deprived of every
resource, and reduced to such extremity of famine as to feed on asses' flesh,"'
was obliged to capitulate on such conditions as the conquerors were pleased
to prescribe. He agreed to pay four hundred thousand ducats to the armv ;
to surrender tothe emperor all the places of strength belonging to the church ;
and, besides giving hostages, to remain a prisoner himself until the chief
articles were performed. He was committed to the care of Alarcon, who, by
his severe vigilance in guarding Francis, had given full proof of his being quali-
fied for that office ; and thus, by a singular accident, the same man had the
custody of the two most illustrious personages who had been made prisoners
in Europe during several ages.

The account of this extraordinary and unexpected event was no less sur-
prising than agreeable to the emperor. But in order to conceal his jov from
his subjects, who were filled with horror at the success and crimes of their

« Jor. Vit. Colon, p. 165.

«9 Ibid. g. 166. Guic, lib. xviii. pp. 440, &c. Comment, de Capta Urbe Romae, ap.
Scardium, li. p. 230. UUoa, Vita di Carlo V. pp. 110, &c. Giannone, Hist, of Nap. B.
xxxi. ch. 3, p. 507.

70 Guic. lib. xviii. p. 450. » Jo~. Vit. Colon, p. 167.

BOOK IV.] SOLYMAN ISVAUES HUNGABY. 223

counf rjTiien, and to lessen the indignation of the rest of Europe, he declared
that Home had been assaulted without any order from him. He wrote to all
the princes with whom he was in alliance, disclaiming his having had any know-
ledge of Bourbon's intention.;- He put himself and court into mourning;
commanded the reioicings which had been ordered for the birth of liis son
Philip to be stoppea ; and, employing an artifice no less hj'pocritical than gross,

he ■ ' 1 prayers and processions throughout all Spain for the recovery

of > liberty, M-hich, b^r an order to his generals, he could have

imii . -ranted him."

The good fortune of the house of Austria was no less conspicuous in another

Eart of Europe. Soljmau having invaded Hungary with an army of three
undred thousand men, Lewis II., king of that country and of Bohemia, a
weak and unexperienced prince, advanced rashly to meet him with a body of
men which did not amount to thirty thousand. With an imprudence still
more unpardonable, he. gave the command of these troops to Paul Tomorri, a
Franciscan monk, archbishop of Golocza. This awkward general, in the dress
of his order, girt with its cord^ marched at the head of the troops ; and,
hurried on bv his own presumption, as well as by the impetuosity of nobles
who despised danger, but were impatient of long service, he fought the fatal
battle ot Moliacz [1526], in which the king, the flower of the Hungarian no-
bdity, and upwards of twenty thousand men, fell the victims of his folly and
ill-conduct. Solyman, after liis victory, seized and kept possession of several
towns of the greatest strength in the southern provinces of Hungary, and,
overrunning the rest of the country, carried near two hundred thousand per-
sons into captivity. As Lewis was the last male of the royal family of
JageUon, the archduke Ferdinand claimed both his crowns. This claim was
founded on a double title ; the one derived from the ancient pretensions of
the house of Austria to both kingdoms : the other, from the ri^ht of his wife,
the only sister of the deceased monarcn. ^ The feudal institutions, however,
subsisted both in Hungary and Bohemia in such vigour, and the nobles pos-
sessed such extensive power, that the crowns were still elective, and Ferdi-
nand's rights, if they had not been powerfully supported, would have met
•with little regard. But his own personal merit; the respect due to the
brother of the greatest monarch in Christendom ; the necessity of choosing
a prince able to afford his subjects some additional protection against the
Tiurkish arms, which, as they had recently felt their power, they greatly"
dreaded, together with the intrigues of his sister, who had been married to the
late king, overcame the prejudices which the Hungarians had conceived against
the archauke as a foreigner ; and, though a considerable party voted for the
vaj'wode of Transylvama, at length secured Ferdinand the throne of that
kingdom. The states of Bohemia imitated the example of their neighbour
kingdoni: but, in order to ascertain and secure their own privileges, they
obhged Ferdinand, before his coronation, to subscribe a deedj which thev term
a reverse, declaring that he held that crown not by any previous right, but by
their gratuitous and voluntary election. By such a vast accession of terri-
tories, the hereditary possession of wliich they secured in process of time to
their family, the prmces of the house of Austria attained that pre-eminence
in power which hath rendered them so formidable to the rest of Germany.^*
The dissensions between the pope and emperor proved extremely favour-
able to the progress of Lutheranism. Charles, exasperated by Clement's

'» Ruscelli, Lettere de' Principi, ii. p. 234.

» Sleid. p. 109. Sandov. i. 822. Alauroc. Hist. Veneta, lib. iii. p. 220.
^* Steph. Broderick Procancellarii Hungar. Clades in Campo Mohacz, ap. Scardium
ii. 218. P. Barre, Hist. d'Allemagne, torn. viii. part, i p. 198.

224 PROGEESS OF THE REFORMATION [BOOK IV.

conduct, and fuUjr employed in opposing the league which he had formed
against him, had little inclination, and less leisure, to take any measures for
suppressing the new opinions in Germany. In a diet of the empire held at
Spires [1526], the state of religion came to be considered ; and all that the
emperor required of the princes was, that they would wait patiently, and
witnout encouraging iimovations, for the meeting of a general council, which
he had demanded of the pope. They, in return, acknowledged the convoca-
tion of a council to be the proper and regular step towards reforming abuses
in the church ; but contended, that a national council held in Germany would
be more effectual for that purpose than what he had proposed. To his advice,
concerning the discouragement of mnovations, they paid so Kttle regard, that,
even during the meeting of the diet at Spires, the divines, who attended the
elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse-Cassel thither, preached pubHcly,
and administered the sacraments, according to the rights of the reformed
Church." The emperor's own example emboldened the Germans to treat the
papal authority with little reverence. During the heat of his resentment
against Clement, he had published a long reply to an angry brief which the
pope had intended_ as an apology for his own conduct. In this manifesto, the
emperor, after having enumerated many instances of that pontiff's iugratitude,
deceit, and ambition, — all which he painted in the strongest and most aggra-
vated colours, — appealed from him to a general council. At the same time,
he wrote to the college of cardinals, complaining of Clement's partiality and
injustice ; and requiring them, if he refused or delayed to call a council, to
show their concern for the peace of the Christian church, so shamefully ne-

flepted by its chief pastor, bj^ summoning that assembly in their own name.'*
'his manifesto, little inferior in virulence to the invectives of Luther himself,
was dispersed over Germany with great industry ; and, being eagerly read by
persons of every rank, did much more than counterbalance the effect of all
Charles's declarations against the new opinions.

" Sleid. p. 103. " Goldast. Polit. Imper. p. 984.

BOOK V.l CONFEDERACY AGAINST CHARLES,

BOOK V.

General Indignation and Confederacy against the Emperor — The Florentines — The French
Army in Italy — The Emperor sets the Pope at Liberty, and makes Pacific Overtures
— A Royal Challenge — Retreat of the Imperial Army from Rome — The French besiege
Naples— Revolt of Andrew Doria — Freedom of Genoa — Operations in the Milanese
— Treaty between the Pope and the Emperor, and between Charles and Francis —
Henry VIII. seeks a Divorce from his Queen, Catharine of Aragon — Charles visits
Italy, and re-establishes the Power of the Medici — Returns to Germany — The Diet
of Spires — The Protest — The Diet of Augsburg — Decree against the Protestants —
Charles makes his Brother, Ferdinand, King of the Romans — Negotiations of the
Protestants — The Campaign in Hungary — Conference between the Emperor and the
Pope — Movements of the French King — Henry divorced from Queen Catharine by
the Archbishop, and excommunicated by the Pope — Papal Authority abolished in
England — Death of Clement VII. — Pope Paul III. — Insurrection of the Anabaptists
in Germany — They become Masters of Muuster — John of Leyden crowned King —
Confederacy against him — Munster besieged and taken — The League of Sraalkalde —
Expedition of the Emperor to Africa — The Barbary States — The Barbarossas — Con-
quest of Tunis — The Emperor besieges Goletta, defeats Bavbarossa, and restores the
King of Tunis,

[1527.] The account of the crael manner in which the pope had been treated
filled all Europe with astonishment or horror. To see a Christian emperor,
who, by possessing that dignity, ought to have been the protector and advo-
cate of the holy see, lay violent hands on him who represented Christ on earth,
and detain his sacred person in a rigorous captivitv, was considered as an
impiety that merited the severest vengeance, and wmch called for the im-
mediate interposition of every dutiful son of the church. Francis and Henry,
alarmed at the progress of the imperial arms in Italy, had, even before the
taking of Rome, entered into a closer alliance ; and in order to give some
check to the emperor's ambition, had agreed to make a vigorous diversion in.
the Low Countries. The force of eveiy motive which had influenced them
at that time was now increased ; and to these was added the desire of rescu-
ing the pope out of the emperor's hands, a measure no less politic than it
appeared to be pious. This, however, rendered it necessary to abandon their
hostile intentions against the Low Countries, and to make Italy the seat of
war, as it was by vigorous operations there they might contribute most effec-
tually towards delivering Rome, and setting Clement at liberty. Francis
being now sensible that, m his system with regard to the affairs of Italy, the
spirit of refinement had carried him too far, and that, by an excess of re-
missness, he had allowed Charles to attain advantages wliich he mi^ht easily
have prevented, was eager to make reparation for an error of which he was
not otten guilty, by an activity more suitable to his temper. Henry thought
his interposition necessary, in order to hinder the emperor from beconung
master of all Italy, and acquiring by that means such superiority of power as
would enable him, for the future, to dictate without control to the other
princes of Europe. Wolsey, whom Francis had taken care to secure, bY
flattery and presents, the certain methods of gaining his favour, neglectei
nothmg that could incense his master against the emperor. Besides all thesft

Q

226 INACTIVITY OF THE lilPEEIAL TROOPS. IbOOK V,

puWic considerations, Henry was influenced by one of a more private nature :
having begun, about this time, to form liis great scheme of divorcing Catha-
rine of Aragon, towards the execution of which he knew that the sanction of
papal authority would be necessary, he was desirous to acquii-e as much
merit as possible with Clement, by appearing to be the chief instrument of
his deliverance.

The negotiation, between princes thus disposed, was not tedious. Wolsey
himself conductea_ it, on the part of his sovereign, with unbounded powers.
Francis treated with him in person at Amiens, where tlie cardinal appeared,
and was received with royal magnificence. A marriage_ between the duke of
Orleans and the Princess Mary was agreed to as the basis of the confederacy;
it was resolved that Italy should be the theatre of war ; the strength of the
army which should take the field, as well as the contingent of troops or of
money, which each prince should furnish, were settled ; and if the emperor
did not accept of the proposals which they Vv'ere jointly to make him, they
bound themselves immediately to declare war, and to begin hostilities.
Henry, who took every resolution with impetuosity, entered so eagerly into
this new aEiance, that, in order to give Francis the strongest proof of his
friendship and respect, he formally renounced the ancient claim of the
EngUsh monarchs to the croAvn of Prance, which had long been the pride
and ruin of the nation; as a full compensation for which he accepted a
pension of fifty thousand crowns, to be paid aimually to himself and his suc-
cessors.^

The pope, being unable to fulfil the conditions of his capitulation, still
remained a prisoner, under the severe custody of Alarcon. The Florentines
no sooner heard of what had happened at Rome, than they ran to arms in a
tumultuous manner ; expelled the Cardinal di Cortona, who goyerried their
city in the pope's name ; defaced the arms of the Medici ; broke ui pieces the
statues of Leo and Clement ; and, declaring themselves a free state, re-esta-
blished their ancient popular govermnent. The Venetians, taking advantage
of the calamity of their ally the pope, seized Ravenna, and other places be-
longing to the church, under pretext of keeping them in deposit. The__ dukes
of tJrbiao and Ferrara laid hold likewise on part of the spoils of the 'unfor-
tunate pontiff, whom they considered as irretrievably ruined. -

Lannoy, on the other hand, laboured to derive some solid benefit from that
unforeseen event, which gave such splendour and superiority to his master's
arms. For this purpose, he marched to Rome, together with Moncada, and
the Marquis del Guasto, at the head of all the troops which they could
assemble in the kingdom of Naples. The arrival of this reinforcement
brought new calamities on the unliappy citizens of Rome ; for the soldiers,
envyiug the wealth of their companions, imitated their licence, and with the
utmost rapacity gathered the gleanings which had escaped the avarice of
the Spaniards and Germans. There was not now any ariiiy in Italy capable
of maiing head against the imperialists ; and nothing more was requisite to
reduce Bologna, and the other towns in the ecclesiastical state, than to
have appeared before them. Rut the soldiers having been so long accus-
tomed, under Bourbon, to an entire relaxation of discipline, and having tasted
the isweets of Kvuig at discretion in a great city, almost without the control
of a superior, were become so impatient of military subordination, and so
averse to service, that they refused to leave Rome, unless aU their arrears
were paid ; a condition which they knew to be impossible. Af the same time
they declared, that they would not obey any other person than the prmce of
Orange, whom the army had chosen general. Lannoy, finding that it was no

» Herbert, pp. 83, &c. Rym. Foed. xiv. p. 20a - Guic. lib. xviii. p. 453.

BOOK v.] THE FRENCH INVADE ITALY. 227

longer safe for liim to remain araong licentious tiooi)s, who despised his
diguity and liated his person, returaed to Naples ; soon after, the ^Marquis del
Guasto and Moncada thouglit it pmdcnt to quit Rome for the same reason.
The prince of Orange, a general only in name, and by the most precarious of
all tenures, the good- will of soldiers, whom success and licence had rendered
capricious, was obliged to pay more attention to their humours than they did
to liis commands. ^ Thus tlic emperor, instead of reaping any of the aavan-
tages which he might have expected from the reduction of Eonie, had the
mortilication to see the rnost formidable body of troops that ho had ever
brought into the field continue in a state of inactivity, from "which it ^v•as im-
possible to rouse thera.^

This gave the king of France and the Venetians leisure to form new schemes,
and to enter into new engagements for delivering the pope, and preserving
the liberties of Italy. The newly-restored republic of Florence very impru-
dently joined with them, and Lautrec, of whose abilities the Italians enter-
tained a much more favourable opinion than his own master, was, in order
to gratify them, appointed generalissimo of the league. It was with the
utmost reluctance he undertook that office, being unwilling to expose himself
a second time to difficulties and disgraces, which the negligence of the king,
or the malice of his favourites, might bring upon him. The best troops in
"France marched under his command, and the king of England, though he had
not yet declared war against the emperor, advanced a considerable sum to-
wards carrying on the expedition. Lautrec's fi]-st operations were prudent,
Tigorous, and successful. By the assistance of Andrew Doria, the ablest
sea-officer of that age, he rendered himself master of Genoa, and re-established
in that republic the faction of the Fregosi, together with the dominion of
France. He obliged Alexandria to suiTender after a short siege, and reduced
all the country on that side of the Tessino. He took Pavia, which had so
long resisted the anns of his sovereign, by assault, and plundered it with that
cruelty, wliich the memory of the fatal disaster that had befallen the French,
nation before its walls naturally inspired. All the Milanese, which iintonio
de LejTa defended with a small body of troops, kept together, and supported
by his own address and industry, must have soon submitted to his power, if
he had continued to bend the force of his arms against that country. But
Lautrec durst not complete a conquest which would have been so honourable
to himself, and of sucn advantage to the league. Francis knew his con-
federates to be more desu-ous of circumscribing the imperial power in Ital}\
than of acquiring new territories for him- and was afraid that if Sforza were
once re-established in Milan, they would second but coldly the attack -which
he intended to make on the kingdom of Naples. For this reason, he instructed
Lautrec not to push his operations with too much vigour in Lombardy ; and
happily the impoi-tunities of the pope, and the solicitations of the Florentines,
the one for relief, and the other for protection, were so urgent as to luinish
him with a decent pretext for marching forward, without yielding to the en-
treaties of the Venetians and Sforza, who insisted on his laying siege to
Milan,*

While Lautrec advanced slowly towards Rome, the emperor had time to
deliberate concerning the disposal of the pope's person, who still remained
a prisoner in the castle of St. Angelo. Notwithstanding the specious veil ot
religion, with w^hich he usually endeavoured to cover his actions, Cliarles, in
many instances, appears to have been but little under the influence of reli-
gious considerations, and had frequently, on this occasion, expressed aa

3 Guic. lib. xviii. 454.

* Ibid. lib. xviii. p. 461. Bellay, pp. 107, &c. Mauroc Hist. Venet. lib. ii. 238.

q2

228 THE pope's EAIfSOM. [BOOK V.

inclination to transport the pope into S^ain, that he might indulge his ambi.
tion with the spectacle of the two most illustrious ;personages in Europe, suc-
cessively prisoners in his court. But the fear of giving offence to all Chris-
tendom, and of filling his own subjects with horror, obliged him to forego
that satisfaction.^ The progress of the confederates made it now necessary,
either to set the pope at liberty, or to remove him to some place of confine-
ment more secure than the castle of St. An^elo. Manv considerations in-
duced him to prefer the former, particularly his want of the money, requisite
as well for recruiting his army, as for paying off the vast arrears due to it. In
order to obtain this, he had assembled the cortes of Castile at Valladolid
about the beginning of the year, and having laid before them the state of his
alFairs, and represented the necessity of making great preparations to resist
the enemies, whom envy at the success which had crowned his arms would
unite against him, he demanded a large supply in the most pressing terms ;
but the cortes, as the nation was already exhausted by extraordinary dona-
tives, refused to load it with any new burden, and. in spite of his endeavours
to gain or to intimidate the members, persisted in this resolution." No
resource, therefore, remained, but the extorting from Clement, by way of
ransom, a sum sufficient for discharging what was due to his troops, without
which it was vain to mention to them their leaving Rome.

Nor was the pope inactive on his part, or his intrigues unsuccessful to
wards hastening such a treaty. By flattery, and the appearance of un
bounded confidence, he disarmed the resentment of Cardinal Colomia, and
wrought upon his vanity, wliich made him desirous of showing the world, that
as his power had at first depressed the pope, it could now raise him to his
former dignity. By favours and promises he gained Morone, who, by one
of those whimsical revolutions which occur so often in his Hfe, and which
so strongly display his character, had now recovered his credit and autho-
rity with the imperialists. The address and influence of two such men easily
removed all the obstacles which retarded an accommodation, and brought
the treaty for Clement's liberty to a conclusion, upon conditions hard indeed,
but not more severe than a prince in his situation had reason to expect. He
was obliged to advance, in ready money, a hundred thousand crowns for the
use of the army ; to pay the same sum at the distance of a fortnight ; and at
the end of three months, a hundred and fifty thousand more. He engaged not
to take part in the war against Charles, either in Lombardy or in Naples ;
he granted him a bull of cruzado, and the tenth of ecclesiastical revenues in
Spain ; and he not only gave hostages, but put the emperor ui possession of
several towns, as a security for the performance of these articles.^ Having
raised the first moiety by a sale of ecclesiastical dignities and benefices, and
other expedients equally uncanonical, a day was fixed for dehvering liim from
imprisonment. But Clement, impatient to be free, after a tedious confine-
ment of six months, as well as fuU of the suspicion and distrust natural to the
unfortunate, was so much afraid that the imperialists might still fcow in
obstacles to put off his deliverance, that he disguised liimself, on the night
preceding the day when he was to be set free, in the habit of a merchant,
and Alarcon having remitted somewhat of his vigilance upon the conclusion
of the treaty, he made his escape undiscovered. He arrived before next mom-
iag at Orvietto, without any attendants but a single officer ; and from thence
wrote a letter of thanks to Lautrec, as the chief instrument of procui-ing him
liberty,^

' Guic. lib. iviii. 457. ^ Sandov, i. p. 814. ^ Guic. lib. xviii. pp. 467, &c.

» Ibid. lib. iviii. pp. 467, &c. Jov. Vit. Colon, p. 169. Mauroc. Hist. Veuet. lib.
lii. p. 252.

BOOK v.] PKANCIS* CHALLENGE TO THE EMPEROR. 229

During these transactions, the ambassadors of France andEndand repaired
to Spain, in consequence of tlie treaty which Wolsev had concluded with the
Freucli king. The emperor, unwilling to draw on himself the united forces
of the two nionarchs, discovered an inclination to relax somewhat the rigour
of the treaty of Madrid, to which, hitherto, he had adliered inflexibly. He
offered to accept of the two millions of crowns, which Francis had proposed
to pay as an equivalent for the duchy of Burgundy, and to set his sons at
liberty, on conaitiou that he would recal his army out of Italy, and restore
Genoa, together with the other conquests which he had made in that
country. Witli regard to Sforza, he insisted that his fate should be deter-
mined by the judges appoiated to inquire into his crimes. These propositions
being made to Henry, he transmitted them to his ally the French king, whom
it more nearly concerned to examine and to answer them ; and if Francis
had been sincerely solicitous, either to conclude peace or preserve con-
sistency in his own conduct, he ought instantly to have closed with over-
tures which diiFered but little from the propositions which he himself had
formerly made.^ But his views were now much changed ; his alliance with
Heiuy, Lautrec's progress in Italy, and the superiority of his army there
above that of the emperor, hardly left him room to doubt of the success of
bis enterprise against Naples. Full of these sanguine hopes, he was at no
loss to find pretexts for rejecting or evading what the emperor had proposed.
Under the appearance of sympathy with Sforza, for whose interests he had not
hitherto discovered much solicitude, he again demanded the full and uncondi-
tional re-establishment of that unfortunate prince in his dominions. Under
colour of its being imprudent to rely on the emperor's sincerity, he insisted
that his sons should oe set at libertv before the French troops left Italy, or
surrendered Genoa. The um-easonableness of these demands, as well as the
reproachful insinuation with which they were accompanied, irritated Charles
to such a degree, that he could hardlv listen to them with patience; and re-
penting of his moderation, which tad made so little impression on his
enemies, declared that he would not depart in the smallest article from the
conditions which he had now offered. Upon this, the French and English am-
bassadors (for Henry had been drawn unaccountably to concur with Francis
in these strange propositions) demanded and obtained their audience of
leave.'"

[1528.J Next day, two heralds, who had accompanied the ambassadors on
purpose, though they had hitherto concealed their character, having assumed
the ensigns of their office, appeared in the emperor's court, and being admitted
into his presence, they, in tne name of their respective masters, and with all
the solemnities customary on such occasions, denounced war against him.
Charles received both with a dignity suitable to his own rank, but spoke to
each in a tone adapted to the sentiments which he entertained of the
sovereigns. He accepted the defiance of the English monarch with a firmness
tempered by some degree of decency and respect. His reply to the French
king abounded with that acrimony of expression, which personal rivalship,
exasperated by the memory of many injuries inflicted as well as suffered, natu-
rally suggests. He desired the French herald to acquaint his sovereign, that
he woidd henceforth consider him not only as a base violator of public faith,
but as a stranger to the honour and integrity becoming a gentleman. Francis,
too high-spirited to bear such an imputation, had recoui'se to an uncommon
expedient in order to vindicate his character. He instantly sent back the
herald with a cartel of defiance, in which he gave the emperor the lie in form,

» Recueil des Traits, ii. p. 249.

" Rym. xiv. p. 200. Herbert, p. 85. Guic. lib. xviii. p. 471,

230 rjETEElT OP THE IMPERIALISTS, [bQOK V.

diallenged him to single combat, requiiing liim to name the time and place for
the encounter, and the weapons with which he chose to fight. Charles, as he
was not inferior to his rival in spirit or bravery, readily accepted the chal-
lenge; bnt, after several messages concerning the arrangement of all the
cu'cumstances relative to the combat, accompanied with mutual reproaches,
bordering on the most indecent scurrility, all thoughts of tliis duel, more be-
coming the heroes of romance than the two greatest monarchs of their age,
were entirely laid aside."

The example of two personages so illustrious drew such general attention,
and carried with it so much authority, that it had considerable influence iu
producing an important change in manners aU over Europe. Duels, as has
already been observed, had long been permitted by the laws of all the Euro-
pean nations, and, forming a part of then- jurisprudence, were authorized by
the magistrate, on many occasions, as the most proper method of terminating
questions with regard to property, or of deciding those which respected crimes.
But single combats being considered as solemn appeals to the omniscience and
justice of the Supreme Being, they were allowed only in public causes, accord-
ing to tlie prescription of law, and carried on in a judicial form. Men accus-
tomed to this manner of decisions in courts of justice, were natm-ally led to
apply it to personal and private quarrels. Duels, which at first could be
appointed by the civil judge alone, were fought without the interposition of
bis authority, and in cases to which the laws did not extend. The transaction
between Charles and Erancis strongly countenanced this practice. Upon
every affront, or injury, which seemed to touch his honour, a gentleman
thought himself entitled to draw his sword, and to call on his adversary to
'give him satisfaction. Such an opinion becommg prevalent among men of
fierce courage, of high spirit, and of rude manners, when offence was often

fiven, and revenge was always prompt, produced most fatal consequences.
Inch of the best blood in Christendom was shed ; many useful Hves were
sacrificed ; and, at some periods, war itself hath hardly been more destructive
than these private contests of honour. So^ powerful, however, is the dominion
of fashion, that neither the terror of penal laws, nor reverence for religion,
has been able entirely to abonsh a practice unknown among the ancients, and
not justifiable by any principle of reason ; though at the same time it must be
admitted that, to this absui-d custom, we must ascribe in some degree the ex-
traordinary gentleness and complaisance of modern manners, and that re-
spectful attention of one man to another, which at present render the social
intercourses of life far more agreeable and decent, than among the most
civilized nations of antiquity.

Wliile the two monarchs seemed so eager to termiaate their quarrel by a
personal combat, Lautrec contiuued his operations, which promised to be
more decisive. His army, which was now mcreased to thii'ty-five thousand
men, advanced by great marches towards Naples. The terror of their ap-
proach, as well as the remonstrances and the entreaties of the prince of
Orange, prevailed at last on the imperial troops, though with difficulty, to quit
Kome, of which they had kept possession during ten months. But of that
flourishing army which had entered tlie city, scarcely one-half remained ; the
rest, cut off by the plague, or wasted by diseases, the effects of their iaactivity,
intemperance, and debauchery,. fell victims to their own crimes.^- Lautrec
made the greatest efforts to attack them in their retreat towards the Nea-
politan territories, which would ^ave finished the war at one blow. But the
prudence of their leaders disappointed all Ms measures, and conducted theia

" Recueil des Trait^s, p. 2. Mem. de BeUay, pp, 103, &c. Sandov. Hist, i. p. 837.
12 Quic lib. XTiii. p. 478.

iOOK v.] AND SIEGE OF NAPLES. 231

with little loss to Naples. The people of that Icingdom, extremely impatient
to shake off the Spanish yoke^ received the French ^vith open arms, wherever
they appeared to take possession ; and, Gael a and Naples excejjtcd, hardly
any place of importance remained in the hands of the imperialists. The pre-
servation of the former ^ras owing to the strength of its tortifications, that of
the latter to the presence of the imperial aimv. jjautrec, however, sat down
before Naples ; but finding it vain to think oi reducing a city by force whde
defended by a whole anny, he was obliged to employ the slower but less
danti-crous method of blockade ; and having taken measures which appeared
to liim effectual, he confidently assured his master that famine would soon
compel the besieged to capitulate. These hopes were_ strongly confirmed by
the defeat of a vigorous attemjjt made by the enemy in order to recover the
command of the sea. The galleys of Andrew Doria, under the command of his
nephew Philippiiio, guarded the mouth of the harbour. Moncada, who had
succeeded Lannoy in the viceroyalty, rigged out a number of galleys superior
to Doria' s, manned them with a chosen body of Spanish veterans, and going
on board himself, together vdth the Marquis del Guasto, attacked Philippuio
before the arrival ot the Venetian and Erench fleets. But the Genoese ad-
miral, by his superior skiU. in naval operations, easily triumphed over the
valour and number of the Spaniards. The viceroy was killed, most of his fleet
destroyed, and Guasto, with many ofiicers of distinction, being taken prisoners,
were put on board the captive galleys, and sent by Philippino as trophies of
his victor)- to his uncle. '^

Notwithstanding this flattering prospect of success, many circumstances
coneuiTed to frustrate Lautrec's expectations. Clement, though he always
acknowledged his being indebted to Francis for the recovery of his liberty,
and often complained of the cruel treatment which he had met with from the
emperor, was not influenced at this juncture by priaciples of gratitude, nor,
which is more extraordinary, was he swayed by the desire of revenge. His
past misfortunes rendered him more cautious than ever, and his recollection
of the errors which he had committed increased the natural irresolution of his
mind. "VVTiile he amused Francis with promises, he secretly neratiated with
Charles ; and being soKcitous, above all things, to re-establish his family in
Florence ^vith their ancient authority, which he coidd not expect from
Francis, who had entered iuto strict alliance with the new republic, he leaned
rather to the side of his enemy than to that of his benefactor, and gave
Lautrec no assistance towards carrying on his operations. The Venetians,
viewing with jealousy the progress of the French arms, were intent only upon
recovering such maritime towns in the Neapolitan dominions as were to
be possessed by their republic, wliile they were altogether careless about
the reduction of Naples, on which the success of the common cause de-
pended." The king of England, instead of being able, as had been pro-
jected, to embarrass the emperor by attacking his territories in the Low
Coimtries, found his subjects so averse to an unnecessary war, which would
have i-uined the trade of the nation, that, in order to silence their clamours,
and put a stop to the insurrections ready to break out among them, he was
compelled to conclude a truce for eight months with the governess of the Ne-
therlands.'^ Francis himself, with the same unpardonable inattention of
which he had formerly been guilty, and for which he had suffered so severely,
neglected to make proper remittances to Lautrec for the support of his
amiy.'^

'3 Guic. lib. xk. p. 487. P. Heater, lib. x. cIi. 2, p. 231.

'♦ Guic. lib. xix. p. 491. " Herbert, p. 90. Rymer, xiv. p. 258.

'8 Guic. lib. xviii. p. 478.

232 REVOLT OF ANDREW DORIA. [bOOK V.

These unexpected events retarded the progress of the French, discou-
raging both the general and his troops ; but the revolt of Andrew Doria
proved a fatal blowto all their measures. That gallant officer, the citizen of
a republic, and trained up from his iofancy in the sea-service, retained the
spirit of independence natural to the former, together with the plain liberal
manners peculiar to the latter. A stranger to the arts of submission or
flattery necessary in courts, but conscious, at the same time, of his own
merit and importance, he always offered his advice with freedom, and often
preferred his complaints and remonstrances with boldness. The French
ministers, unaccustomed to such liberties, determined to ruin a man who
treated them with so little deference ; and though Francis himself had a just
sense of Doria's services, as well as a high esteem for his character, the cour-
tiers, by continually representing him as a man haughty, intractable, and
more solicitous to aggrandize himself than to promote the interests of
France, gradually undermined the foundations of nis credit, and filled the
king's mind with suspicion and distrust. From thence proceeded several
affronts and indignities put upon Doria. His appointments were not regularly
paid ; his advice, even m naval affairs, was often slighted ; an attempt was
made to seize the prisoners taken by his nephew in the sea-fight off Naples ;
all which he bore with abundance of ill humour. But an injury offered to
his countrj^ transported liim beyond all bounds of patience. The French
began to tortify Savqna, to clear its harbour, and, removing thither some
branches of trade carried on at Genoa, plainly showed that they intended to
render that town, which had been long the object of jealousy and hatred to the
Genoese, their rival in wealth and commerce. Doria, animated with a patriotic
zeal for the honour and interest of his country, remonstrated against this in
the highest tone, not without tlu-eats, if the measure were not instantly aban-
doned. This bold action, aggravated by the malice of the courtiers, and
placed in the most odious light, irritated Francis to such a degree, that he
commanded Barbesieux, whom he appointed admiral of the Levant, to sail
directly to Genoa with the French fleet, to arrest Doria, and to seize his
gallevs. This rash order, the execution of which could have been secured
only by the most profound secrecy, was concealed with so little care, that Doria
got timely intelhgence of it, and retired with all his galleys to a place of
safety. Guasto, his prisoner, who had long observed and fomented his grow-
ing discontent, and had often aUured him by magnificent promises to enter
into the emperor's service, laid hold on this favourable opportunity. While
his indignation and resentment were at their height, he prevailed on him to
despatch one of his officers to the imperial court with his overtm-es and de-
mands. The negotiation was not long ; Charles, fully sensible of the impor-
tance of such an acquisition, granted him whatever terms he required. Doria
sent back his commission, together with the collar of St. Michael, to Francis,
and hoisting the imperial colours, sailed wdth all his galleys towards Naples,
not to block up the harbour of that unhappy city, as he had formerly engaged,
but to bring them protection and deliverance.

His arrival opened the communication with the sea, and restored plenty in
Naples, which was now reduced to the last extremity; and the French,
having lost their superiority at sea, were soon reduced to great straits for
want of provisions. The prince of Orange, who succeeded the viceroy in the
command of the imperial army, showed himself, by his prudent conduct,
worthy of that honour which his good fortune and the death of his generals
had twice acquired him. Beloved by the troops, who, remembering the
prosperity which they had enjoyed under his command, served liim with the
utmost alacrity, he let slip no opportunity of harassing the enemy, and by

BOOK v.] HIS MAGNAIflMTTT. 233

continual alarms or sallies fati^ed and weakened them,'' As an addition
to all these misfortunes, the diseases common in that country during the
sultry niontlis began to break out among the French troops. The prisoners
communicated to them the pestilence wiiich the imperial army had brought to
Naules from Rome, and it raged witli such violence that few, either officers or
soldiers, escai)ed the infection. Of the whole army, not four thousand men,
a number hardly sufficient to defend tlie camp, were capable of doing dutj^;"
and being now besieged in their turn, they suffered all the miseries from wluch
the imperialists were delivered. Lautrec, after struggling long with so many
disappomtments and calamities, which preyed on his mind at the same time
that the pestilence wasted his body, died, lamenting the negligence of his
soverei^, and the infidelity of his allies, to which so many brave men had
fallen victims.'" By his death, and the indisposition of the other generals,
the command devolved on the Marquis de Saluces, an officer altogether
unequal to such a trust. He, with troops no less dispirited than reduced,
retreated in disorder to Aversa ; which town being invested bv the prince of
Orange, Saluces was under the necessity of consenting that he himself should
remain a prisoner of war, that his troops should lay down their arms and
colours, give up their baggage, and march under a guard to the frontiers of
France. By this ignomimous capitulation, the wretched remains of the French
army were saved ; and the emperor, by his own perseverance, and the good con-
duct of his generals, acquired once more the superiority in Italy .^*'

The loss of Genoa followed immediately upon the ruin of the army in Naples .
To deliver his country from the dominion of foreigners was Doria's hignest
ambition, and had been his principal inducement to quit the service of France,
and enter into that of the emperor. A most favourable opportunity for exe-
cuting this honourable enterprise now presented itself. The city of Genoa,
afflicted bv the pestilence, was almost deserted by its inhabitants ; ttie French
garrison, being neither regularly paid nor recruited, was reduced to an in-
considerable number ; Doria's emissaries found that such of the citizens as
remained, being weary alike of the French and imperial yoke, the rigour of
which they had alternately felt, were ready to welcome him as their deliverer,
and to second all his measures. Things wearing this promising aspect, he
sailed towards the coast of Genoa ; on his approach the French galleys retired ;
a small body of men which he landed surprised one of the gates of Genoa in
the night-time ; Trivulci, the French governor, with his feeble garrison, shut
himself up in the citadel, and Doria took possession of the town without
bloodshed or resistance. Want of provisions quickly obliged Trivulci to capi-
tulate ; the people, eager to abolish such an odious monument of their ser-
vitude, ran together with a tumultuous violence, and levelled the citadel with
the ground.

It was now in Doria's power to have rendered himself the sovereign of his
country, wliich he had so happily delivered from oppression. The fame of his
former actions, the success of his present attempt, the attachment of his
friends, the gratitude of his countrymen, together with the support, of the
emperor, all conspired to facilitate his attaining the supreme authority, and
invited him to lay hold of it. But with a magnanimity of which there are
few examples, he sacrificed all thoughts of aggrandizing himself to the vir-
tuous satisfaction of establishing liberty in his countrv, the highest object
at which ambition can aim. Having assembled the vfhole body of the people

" Jovii Hist. lib. xxxvi. pp. 31, &c. Sigonii Vita Donse, p. 1139. Bellay, pp. 114, &c.
" Bellay, pp. 117, &c. >» P. Heuter. Rerum Austr. lib x. ch. 2, p. 231.

* Bellay, pp. 117, &c. Jovii Hist. lib. xxv. xxvi.

234; IfEGOTIATIONS FOE PEACE, [BOOK V.

in the court before his palace, he assured them that the happiness of seeing
them once more in possession of freedom was to him a full reward for all Jiis
services ; that, more delighted with the name of citizen than of sovereign, he
claimed no pre-eminence or power above his equals ; but remitted entirely to
them the right of settling what foTQ of government they would now choose
to be established among them. The people listened to him with tears of
admiration and of joy.^ Twelve persons were elected to new-model the con-
stitution of _ the republic. The influence of Doria's virtue and example com-
municated itself to his countr^inen ; the factions which had long torn and
ruined the state seemed to be forgotten; prudent precautions were taken to
prevent their reviving ; and the same form of government which halh sub-
sisted with little variation since that time in Genoa, was established with
universal applause. Doria lived to a great age, beloved, respected, and
honoui-ed by his countrymen ; and adhering uniformly to his professions of
moderation, without arrogatmg anything unbecoming a private citizen, he
preserved a. gi-eat ascendant over the councils of the republic, which owed its
being to his generosity. The authority which he possessed was more flatter-
ing, as well as more satisfactory, than that derived from sovereignty ; a domi-
nion founded in love and in gratitude ; and upheld by veneration for his
virtues, not by the dread of his power. _ His memory is stiU reverenced by
the Genoese, and he is distinguished in then- public monuments, and celebrated
in the works of their historians, by the most honourable of all appellations,

THE FATHEH OE HIS COUNTRY, AKD THE EESTOEEE, OE ITS LIBEETY.^^

[1529.] Francis, in order to recoverthe reputation of his arms, discredited
by so many losses, made new efforts in the Milanese. But the count of St.
Pol, a rash and inexperienced officer, to whom he gave the command, was no
match for Antonio de Leyva, the ablest of the imperial generals. He, by his
superior skill in war, checked, with a handful of men, the brisk but ill-con-
certed motions of the French ; and though so infirm himself, that he was
carried constantly in a litter, he surpassed them, v/hen occasion required, no
less in activity than in prudence. By an unexpected march he surprised,
defeated, and took prisoner the count of St. Pol, ruining the French army in
the Milanese as entirely as the prince of Orange had ruined that which be-
sieged Naples.^^

Amidst these vigorous operations in the field, each party discovered an
impatient desire of peace, and continual negotiations were carried on for that
purpose. The French kmg, discouraged and almost exhausted by so many
unsuccessful enterprises, w^as reduced now to think of obtaining the release
of his sons by concessions, not by the terror of his arms. The pope hoped
to recover by a treaty whatever he had lost in the war. The emperor, not-
withstanding the advantages ^yhich he had gained, had many reasons to make
him wish for an accommodation. Soljinan, having overnin Hungary, was
ready to break in upon the Austrian territories with the whole force of the
East. The reformation gaining ground daily in Germany, the princes who
favoured it had entered into a confederacy which Charles thought dangerous
to the tranquillity of the empire. The Spaniards murmurei^ at a war of such
unusual length, the weight of which rested chiefly on them. The variety
and extent of the emperor's operations far exceeded what his revenues could
support. His success hitherto had been owing chiefly to his own good for-
tune, and to the abilities of his generals ; nor could he fl?,tter himself that
they, with troops destitute of everything necessary, would always triumph

2^ Guic, lib. xix. p. 498. Sigonii Vita Doriae, p. 1146. Jovii Hist. lib. sxvi. pp. 36, &c.
22 Guic. lib. xix. p. 520. P. Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib. s. ch. 3, p. 233. M^m. de Bellay
p. 121.

BOOK v.] CUAilLES*S TKJIATY WITH THE POPE. 835

over enemies still in a condition to renew their attacks. All parties, however,

- " * ■' — lins to conceal or to dissemble their real sentiments. The

- inability to carry on the war might not be suspected, insisted
^ 111 the tone of a conqueror. The pope^ solicitous not to lose

his piestmt allies before he came to any agreement with Charles, continued
to make a thousand protestations of fidelity to the former, while he privately
lu'-ntiatcd with the latter. Prancis, afraid that his confederates might pre-
vent him by treating for themselves with the emperor, had recourse t-o many
dislionourai)le artiliccs, in order to turn their attention from the measures
whicli he was taking to adjust all diflerences witli his rival.

In this situation of atiairs, when all tlie contending powers wished for peace,
but durst not venture too hastily on the steps necessary for attaining it, two
ladies undertook to procure this blessing so much desired by all Europe.
These were i\largai-et of Austria, duchess dowager of Savoy, the emperor's
aunt, and Louise. Francis's mother. They agreed on an interview at Cam-
brav, and being lodged m two adjoining houses, between which a communi-
cation was opened, met together without ceremony or qbseiTation, and held
dailv conferences, to which no person whatever was adniitted. As both were
profoundly skilled in business, thoroughly acquainted with the secrets of their
respective* courts, and possessed with perfect confidence in each other, they
soon made great progress towards a final accommodation; and tlie ambas-
sadors of all the confederates waited in anxious suspense to know their fate,
the determination of which was entirely in the hands of those illustrious nego-
tiators.-'

But whatever diligence they used to hasten forward a general peace, the
pope had the address and industry to get the start of his allies, by conclud-
ing at Barcelona a particular treaty for himself. The emperor, impatient to
visit Italy in his way to Germany, and desirous of re-establishing tranquillity
in the one country, before he attempted to compose the disorders which
abounded in the other, found it necessary to secure at least one alliance
amcmg the Italian states, on which he might depend. That with Clement, who
courted it with unwearied importunity, seemed more proper than any other.
Charles, being extremely solicitous to make some reparation for the insults
which he had offered to the sacred character of the pope, and to redeem past
offences by new merit, granted Clement, notwithstanding all his misfortunes,
terms more favourable tliau he could have expected after a continued series of
success. Among other articles, he engaged to restore all the tenitories be-
longing to the ecclesiastical state ; to re-establish the dominion of the Medici
in Florence ; to give his natui:al daughter in marriage to Alexander, the head
of that family ; and to put it in the pope's power to decide coiicerniag the fate
of Sforza and the possession of the Milanese. In return for these ample con-
cessions, Clement gave the emperor the investiture of Naples without the
reserve of any tribute, but the present of a white steed, in acknowledgment
of his sovereignty ; absolved all who had been concerned in assaulting and
plundering Rome, and permitted Charles and his brother Ferdinand to levy
the fourth of the ecclesiastical revenues throughout their dominions.-*

The account of this transaction quickened the negotiations at Cambray,
and brought Margaret and Louise to an immediate agreement. The troatj; of
Madrid served as the basis of that which they concluded; the latter being
intended to mitigate the rigour of the former. The chief articles were, that
the emperor should not, for the present, demand the restitution of Burgundy,
reserving, however, in full force, his rights and pretensions to that duchy ;

» P. Heuter. Eer. Anstr. lib. s. ch- 3, p. 133. Mtm. de Bellay, p. 122.
>♦ Guic. lib. sis. p. 622.

236 THE TREATY OF CAMBRAY. [BOOK V:

tbat Prancis should pay two millions of crowns as the ransom of his sons,
and, before they were set at liberty, should restore such towns as he stiU held
in the Milanese ; that he should resign his pretensions to the sovereignty of
Elanders and of Artois ; that he should renounce aU his pretensions to
Naples, Milan, Genoa, and every other place beyond tlie Alps ; that he should
immediately consummate the marriage concluded between him and the empe-
ror's sister Eleanora.^^

Thus Erancis, chiefly from his impatience to procure liberty to his sons,
sacrificed everything which had at first prompted him to take arms, or which
had induced him, by continuing hostilities during nine successive campaigns,
to protract the war to a length hardlj^ known in Europe, before the esta-
blishment of standing armies and the imposition of exoroitant taxes became
universal. The emperor, by this treaty, was rendered sole arbiter of the fate
of Italy : he delivered his territories in the Netherlands from an unpleasant
badge of subjection; and after having baffled his rival in the field, he pre-
scribed to him the conditions of peace. The different conduct and spirit with
which the two monarchs carried on the operations of war, led naturally to
inch an issue of it. Charles, inclined by temper, as well as obliged by his
situation, concerted all his schemes with caution, pursued them with perse-
verance, and, observing circumstances and events with attention, let none
escape that could be improved to advantage. Erancis, more enterprising
than steady, undertook great designs with warmth, but often executed them
with remissness ; and, diverted by his pleasures, or deceived by his favourites,
he lost, on several occasions, the most promising opportunities of success.
Nor had the character of the two rivals themselves greater influence on
the operations of war, than the opposite qualities of the generals whom they
employed. Among the imperialists, valour tempered with prudence; fer-
tility of invention, aided by experience ; discernment to penetrate the designs
of their enemies ; a pro^dent sagacity in conducting their own measures ; in
a word, all the talents vhich form great commanders, and ensure victory,
were conspicuous. Among the Erench, these qualities were either wanting,
or the very reverse of them abounded; nor could they boast of one man
(unless we except Lautrec, who was always unfortunate) that equalled
the merit of Pescara, Leyva, Guasto, the prince of Orange, and other leaders
whom Charles had set in opposition to them. Bourbon, Morone, Dona,
who, by their abilities and conduct, might have been capable of balancing
the superiority which the imperialists had acquired, were induced to abandon
the service of Erance, by the carelessness of the king, and the malice or in-
justice of his councillors ; and the most fatal blows given to Erance, during
the progress of the war, proceeded from the despair and resentment of these
three persons.

The hard conditions to which Erancis was obliged to submit were not the
most afflicting circumstances to him in the treaty of Canibray. He lost his
reputation and the confidence of all Europe, by abandoning his allies to liis
rival. Unwilling to enter into the details necessary for adjusting their in-
terests, or afraid that whatever he claimed for them must have oeeu pur-
chased by farther concessions on his own part, he gave them up in a body;
and, without the least provision in their behalf, left the Venetians, the Elo-
rentines, the duke of Eerrara, together with such of the Neapolitan barons as
had joined his army, to the mercy of the emperor. They exclaimed loudly
sigainst this base and perfidious action, of which Erancis himself was so much
ashamed, that, in order to avoid the pain of hearing from their ambassadors

25 P, Heuter. Rer. Austr. lib x. ch. 3, p. 234. Sandov. Hist. del. Emper. Car. V
u. p. 28.

IbOOK v.] HENRY THE EIGHTH SUES FOR A DIVORCE. 237

ihe reproaches which he justly merited, it was some time before he would
consent to allow them an audience. Charles, on the other hand, was atten-
tive to the interests of every person who had adhered to him : the rights of
some of his Flemish subjects, who had estates or {)retensions in France, were
secured; one article was inserted, obliging Francis to restore the blood and
memory of the constable Bourbon ; and to grant his heirs the possession of
his lauds which had been forfeited ; another, by which indemmfication was
stipulated for those French gentlemen who had accompanied Bourbon in
his exile.^ This conduct, laudable in itself, and placed in the most striking
light by a comparison with that of Fi-ancis, gained Charles as much esteen?
as the success of his arms had acquired him glory.

Francis did not treat the kini? of England with the same neglect as his other
allies. He communicated to him all the steps of his negotiation at Cambray,
and luckily found that monarcli in a situation which left him no choice but
to approve implicitly of his measures, and to concur with them. Henry ha^
been soliciting the poj3e for some time, in order to obtain a divorce from
Catharine of Arag'on, his queen. Several motives combined in prompting the
king to urge his suit. As he was powerfully influenced at some seasons by
religious considerations, he entertained many scruples concerning the legiti-
macy of his marriage with his brother's widow ; his affections had long been
estranged from the queen, who was older than himself, and had lost all the
chamis which she possessed in the earlier part of her life ; he was passionately
desirous of having male issue ; Wolsey artfully fortiiied his scruples, and
encouraged his hopes, that he might widen the breach between him and the
emperor, Catharine's nephew ; and, what was more forcible, perhaps, in its
operation, than all these united, the king had conceived a violent love for
the celebrated Anne Boleyn, a young lady of great beauty and of greater
accomplishments, whom, as he found it impossible to gain her on other terms,
he determined to raise to the throne. Tne papal authority had often been
interposed to grant divorces, for reasons less specious than those \vhich
Henry produced. When the matter was first proposed to Clement, during
his imprisomnent in the castle of St. Angelo, as his hopes of recovering liberty
depended entirely on the king of England and his aUy of France, he expressed
the warmest inclination to gratify him. But no sooner was he set free, than
he discovered other sentiments. Charles, who espoused the protection of his
aunt with zeal inflamed by resentment, alarmed the pope, on the one hand,
with threats, which made a deep impression on his timid mind, and allured
him, on the other, with those promises in favour of his family which he after-
wards accomplished. Upon the prospect of these, Clement not only forgot
all his obligations to Henry, but ventured to endanger the interests of the
Romish religion in England, and to run the risk of alienating that kingdom
for ever from the obedience of the papal see. After amusing Henry during
two years with all the subtleties and chicane which the court of Rome can
so dexterously employ to protract or defeat any cause ; after displaying the
whole extent of his ambiguous and deceitful policy, the intricacies of which
the English historians, to whom it properly belongs, have found it no easy
matter to trace and unravel, he at last recalled the powers of the delegates,
whom he had appointed to judge in the point, avocated the cause to Rome,
leaving the king no other hope of obtaining a divorce but from the personal
decision of the pope himself^ As Clement was now in strict alliance with
the emperor, who had purchased his friendship by the exorbitant concessions
which have been mentioned, Henry despaired of procuring any sentence from
the fonner but what was dictated by tne latter. His honour, however, and

I

Guic. lib, xix. p. 525. P. Heuter. Eer. Austr. lib. x. ch. 4. p. 23^^

238 THE EMPEROR'S CONDUCT IN ITAXY. [BOOK^,

passions concarred in preventing liim from relinquishing his scheme of a
divorce, which he determined to accomplish by other means, and at any rate;
and the continuance of Prancis's friendsliip being necessary to counterbalance
the emperor's power, he, in order to secure that, not only offered no remon-
strances against the total neglect of their allies in the"^ treaty of Cambray,
but made Francis the present of a large sum, as a brotherly contribution to-
wards the payment of the ransom for his sons .2"

Soon after the treaty of peace was concluded, the emperor landed in Italy
with a numerous train of the Spanish nobility, and a considerable body of
troops. He left the government of Spain, during liis absence, to the empress
Isabella. By his long residence in that country, he had acquired such thorough
knowledge of the character of the people, that he could perfectly accommodate
the maxims of his government to their genius. He could even assume, upon
some_ occasions, such popular manners as gained wonderfully upon the
Spaniards. A striking instance of his disposition to gratify them had oc-
curred a few days before he embarked for Italy. He was to make his pubHc
entry into the city of Barcelona ; and some doubts having arisen among the
inhabitants, whether they should receive hun as emperor, or as count of
Barcelona, Charles instantly decided in favour of the latter, declaring that he
was more proud of that ancient title than of liis imperial crown. Soothed
with this flattering expression of his regard, the citizens welcomed him with
acclamations of joy, and the states of the province swore allegiance to his
son Philip, as heir of the county of Barcelona. A similar oath had been taken
in all the kingdoms of Spain, with equal satisfaction.^*

The emperor appeared in Italy with the pomp and power of a conqueror.
Ambassadors from all the princes and states of that country attended his
court, waiting to receive his decision with regard to their fate. At Genoa,
where he first landed, he was received with the acclamations due to the pro-
tector of their hberties. Having honoured Doria with many marks of dis-
tinction, and bestowed on the rejoubhc several new privileges, he proceeded
to Bologna, the place fixed upon for his interview with the pope. He affected
to unite in his public entry into that city the state and majesty that suited
an emperor, with the humility becoming an obedient son of the chui'ch ; and
while at the head of twenty thousand veteran soldiers, able to give hyw to all
Italy, he kneeled down to kiss the feet of that very pope whom he had so
lately detained a prisoner. The Itahans, after suffering so much from the
ferocity and Licentiousness of Ms armies, and after having been long accus-
tomed to form in their imagination a picture of Charles, wliich bore some re-
semblance to that of the l)arbarous monarchs of the Goths or Huns, who
had formerly afflicted their country with like calamities, w^ere surprised to see
a prince of a graceful appearance, affable and courteous in liis deportment, of
regular maimers, and of exemplary attention to all the ofiices of religion.-''
They were stiU more astonished when he settled all the concerns of the
princes and states which now depended on him, with a degree of modera-
tion and equity much beyond what they had expected.

Charles himseK, when he set out from Spain, tar from intending to give any
such extraordinary proof of his self-denial, seems to have been resolved to avail
himself to the utmost of the superiority which he had acquired in Italy. But
various circumstances concurred in pointing out the necessitv of pursuing
a very different course. The progress of the Turkish sultan, wno, alter over-
running Hungary, had penetrated into Austria, and laid siege to Vienna,
with an army of a hundred and fifty thousand men, loudly called upon him

27 Herbert, Mem. de Bellay, p. 122. 28 Sandov. ii. p. 50 Ferrer, li. 16.

29 Saudov. Hist, del Emp. Carl. V. iL pp. 60, 63, &c.

BOOK v.] HE RESTOilES THE ATJTnOMTT 01 THE MEDICI. 239

to collect his whole force to oppose that torrent ; and though the f alonr of
the German:?, the pmdent conduct of Ferdinand, together with the treachery
of the vizier, soon obliired Solynian to abaiidom tliat ontei-prise with disgrace
and loss, the religious disorders still growing in Germany rendered the pre-
sence of the emperor highly necessary there.*' The f^Iorentines, instead
of giving their consent to the re-estabbshment of the Medici, which, by the
treaty of Barcelona, the emperor had bound himself to procure^^ were prepar-
ing to defend their liberty by force of arms ; the prepai-ations ror his journey
had involved him in unusual expenses ; and on this, as well as many other oc-
casions, the multiplicity of his affairs, together with the narrowness of his
revenues, obliged him to contract the schemes which his boundless ambition
was apt to form, and to forego present and certain advantages, that he might
guard agaiost more remote but nnavoidable dangers. Charles, from all
these considerations, finding it necessary to assume an air of moderation, acted
his part with a good grace* He admitted Sforza into his presence, and not
only gave him a full pardon of all past offences, but granted him the inves-
titure of the duchy, together with his niece, the king of Denmark's daughter,
in marriage. He allowed the duke of Ferrara to keep possession of all his
dominions, adjustiug the points in dispute between him and the pope with an
imjiartialitv not very agreeable to the latter. He came to a final accommo-
dation with the Venetians, upon the reasonable conditi9n of their restoring
whatever they had usurped during the late war, either in. the Neapolitan or
papal territories. In return for so many concessions, he exacted considerable
sums from each of the povrers ^ntll whom he treated, which they paid without
reluctance, and which afforded him the means of proceeding on his journey
towards Germany with a magnificence suitable to his dignitv.^'

[1530.] These treaties, v/hich restored tranquillity to Italy after a tedious
war, the calamities of which had chiefly affected that country, were published
at Eologua with great solemnitv on the first day of the year one thousand
five hundred and thirty, amidst the universal acclamations of the people, ap-
plauding the emperor, to whose moderation and generositv they ascribed the
blessings of peace which they had so long desired. The Florentines alone did
not partake of this general joy. Animated with a zeal for liberty more
laudjible than pi-udeut, they determined to oppose the restoration of the
Medici. The imperial army had ah-eady entered their territories, and formed
the siege of then- capital. But, though deserted by all their allies, and left
without any hope of succour, they defended themselves many months with an
obstiuate valour worthy of better success ; and even when they surrendered,
they obtained a capitulation which gave them hopes of securing some remains
of their libertv. But the emperor, from his desire to gratify the pope, frus-
trated all then- expectations, and, abolishing their ancient form of govern-
ment, raised Alexander de' Medici to the same absolute dominion over that
state, which his family have retained to the present times. Philibert de
Chalons, prince of Orange, the imperial general, was killed during tliis siege.
His estate and titles descended to his sister, Claude de Chalons, who was
married to Rene, count of Nassau, and she transmitted to her posterity of the
house of Nassau the title of princes of Orange, which, by their superior
talents and valour, they have rendered so illustnous.^-

Al'ter the publication of the peace at Bolo^a, and the ceremony of his
coronation as king of Lombardy and emperor ot the Romans, which the pope
perfoimed with the accustomed formalities, nothing detained Charles in Italy i**

I

» Sleidan, 121. Guk. lib. xx. 550. 3i Sandov. ii. pp. 55, &c.

w Guic. lib. XX. pp. 341, &c. P. Heuter. Ker. Austr. lib. ii. ch. 4, p. 236.

-^ H. Coniel. Agrippa d<j dupUci coronatione Car. V. ap. Scard. ii. p. 226

240 DIET OE SPIRES. [BOOK V.

and he began to prepare for his journey to Germany. His presence became
every day more necessary in that country, and was solicited with equal
importunity by the catholics and by the favourers of the new doctrines.
During that long interval of tranquillity, which the absence of the emperor,
the contests between him and the pope, and his attention to the war with
France, afforded them, the latter gained much ground. Most of the princes
who had embraced Luther's opinions, had not only established in their ter-
ritories that form of worship which he approved, but had entirely suppressed
the rites of the Romish church. Many of the free cities had hnitated their
conduct. Almost one-half of the Germanic body had revolted from the papal
see ; and its authority, even m those provinces which had not hitherto shaken
oif the yoke, was considerably weakened, partly by the example of revolt iu
the neighbouring states, partly by the secret progress of the reformed doc-
trine, even in those countries where it was not operdy embraced. Whatever
satisfaction the emperor, while he was at open enmity with the see of Rome,
might have felt in those events, which tended to mortify and embarrass the
pope, he could not help perceiving now that the religious divisions in Ger-
many would, in the end, prove extremely hurtful to the imperial authority.
The weakness of former emperors had suffered the great vassals of the
empire to make such successful encroachments upon their power and prero-
gative, that, during the whole course of the war, which had often required
the exertion of his utmost strength, Charles hardly drew any effectual aid
from Germany, and found that magnificent titles or obsolete pretensions
were almost the only advantages which he had gained by swaymg the im-

Serial sceptre. He became fully sensible that if he did not recover in some
egree the prerogatives which his predecessors had lost, and acquire the
authority, as well as possess the name, of head of the empire, his high
dignity would contribute more to obstruct than to promote his ambitious
schemes. Nothing, he saw, was more essential towards attaining this, than
to suppress opinions which might form new bonds of confederacy among
the princes of the empire, and unite them by ties stronger ttnd more sacred
than any political comiexion. Nothing seemed to lead more certainly to the
accomplishment of his design, than to employ zeal for the established rehgion,
of which he was the natural protector, as the instrument of extending his
civil authority.

Accordingly, a prospect no sooner opened of coming to an nccommodation
with the i)ope, than, by the emperor's appointment, a diet of the empire was
held at Spires [1529], in order to take into consideration the state of rehgion.
The decree of the diet assembled there in the year one thousand five hundred
and twenty-six, _ which was almost equivalent to a toleration of Luther's
opinions, had given great offence to the rest of Christendom, The greatest
delicacy of address, however, was requisite in proceeding to any decision
more rigorous. The minds of men, kept in perpetual agitation by a contro-
versy carried on during twelve years, without intermission of debate, or
abatement of zeal, were now inflamed to a high degree. They were accus-
tomed to innovations, and saw the boldest of them successful. Having not
only abolished old rites, but substituted new forms in their place, they were
influenced as much by attachment to the system which they had embraced,
as by aversion to that which they had abandoned, Luther himself, of a spiiit
not to be worn out by the length and obstinacy of the combat, or to become
remiss upon success, continued the attack with as much vigour as he had
begun it. His disciples, of whom many equalled him in zeal, and some sur-
passed him in learning, were no less capable than their master to conduct the
controversy in. the pro^erest manner. Many of the laity, some even of the

Srinces, trained up amidst these incessant disputations, and in the habit of
stening to the arguments of the contending parties, who alternately appealed

BOOK V.J DELIBERATIONS RESPECTING SCHISMATICS. 241

to them as judges, came to be profoundly skilled in all the questions which
were agitated, ana, upon occasion, coula show tcemselves not inexpert in
any of the arts with wliich these theological encounters were managed. It
was obvious from all these circumstances, that any violent decision of the diet
must have immediately precipitated matters into confusion, and have kindled '
in Gei-manv the flames of a religious war. All, therefore, that the archduke
and the other commissioners appointed by the emperor, demanded of the diet
was, to enjoin those states of the empire whien had hitherto obeyed the
decree issued against Luther at Worms, in the year one thousand five
hundred and twenty-four, to persevere in the observ^ation of it, and to pro-
hibit the other states from attempting any further innovation in religion,
particulai'lv from abolisliing the mass, before the meeting of a general council.
After much dispute, a decree to that eff^t was approved of by a majority of
voices.'*

The elector of Saxony, the marquis of Brandenburg, the landgrave of
Hesse, the dukes of Limenburg, the prince of Anhalt, together with the de-
puties of fourteen imperial or free cities,'* entered a solemn protest against
this decree, as unjust and impious. On that account they were distinguished
by the name of Protestants,'^ an application which hath since become better
known and more honourable, by its oeing applied indiscriminately to all the
sects, of whatever denomination, which have revolted from the rloman see.
Not satisfied with this declaration of theii' dissent from the decree of the
diet, the protestants sent ambassadors into Italy, to ky their grievances be-
fore the emperor, frcfm whom they met with the most discouraging reception.
Charles was at that time in close union with the pope, and solicitous to attach
him inviolably to his interest. During their lon^ residence at Bologna, they
held many consultations concerning the most efiectual means of extirpating
the heresies which had sprung up in Germany. Clement, whose cautious
and timid mind the proposal of a general councO. filled with horror, even
beyond what popes, the constant enemies of such assemblies, usually feel,
employed every argument to dissuade the emperor from consenting to that
measure. He represented general councils as factious, nngovemable, pre-
sumptuous, fonnidable to civil authority, and too slow in their operations
to remedy disorders which required an immediate cure. Experience, he said,
had now tauglit both the emperor and himself, that forbearance and lenity,
instead of soothing the spirit of innovation, had rendered it more enterprising
i presumptuous; it was necessary, therefore, to have reconrse to the
_orous methods which such a desperate case required; Leo's sentence of
excommunication, together with the decree of the diet at Worms, should be
carried into execution, and it was incumbent on the emperor to employ liis
M hole power J in order to overawe those on whom the reverence due either
to ecclesiastical or civil authority had no longer any influence. Charles,
whose views were very different from the pope's, and who became daily more
sensible how obstinate and deep-rooted the evil was, thought of reconciling
the protestants by means less violent, and considered the convocation of a
council as no improper expedient for that purpose ; but promised, if gentler
arts failed of success, that then he would exert liimself with rigour to reduce
to the obedience of the holy see those stubborn enemies of the catholic faith."'

»« Sleid. Hist. p. 117.

" The fourteen cities were Strasburgh, Nuremburgh, UUn, Constance, Reutlingen,
Windsheim, Meinengen, Lindaw, Kempten, Hailbron, Isna, Weissemburgb, Nordlingen,
find St. Gal.

» Sleid. Hist. p. 119. F. Paul, Hist. p. 45. Seckend. ii. p. 127.

3^ F. Paul, xlvii. Seckend. lib. ii. p. 142. Hist, de la Confess. d'Augsburg, pr p.
Chytreus, 4to. Antw. 1572, p. 6.

lH|iid

242 DIET OE AUGSBURG. [bOOK V.

Sucli were the sentunents with which the emperor set out for Germany,
having ah-eady appointed a diet of the empii'e to be held at Augsburg. Li
his journey towards that city, he had many opportunities of observing the
disposition of the Germans with regard to the points in controversy^ and
found their minds everywhere so much irritated and inflamed, as convinced
him that notliing tendm^ to severity or rigoui' ought to be attempted, until
all other measures proved ineffectual. He made his public entry mto Augs-
burg with extraordinary pomp ; and found there such a full assembly of ilie
members of the diet, as was suitable both to the importance of the affairs
which were to come under their consideration, and to the honour of an em-
peror, who, after a long absence, returned to them crowned with reputation
and success. His presence seems to have communicated to all parties an un-
usual spirit of moderation and desire of peace. The elector of Saxony would
not permit Luther to accompany him to the diet, lest he should offend the
emperor by bringing into his presence a person excommunicated by the pope,
and who had been the author of all those dissensions which it now appeared
so difficult to _ compose. At the emperor's desire, all the protestant priaces
forbade the divines who accompanied them to preach in public during their
residence in Augsburg. For the same reason, they employed Melancthon,
the man of the greatest learning, as weU as of the most pacific and gentle
spirit amon^ the reformers, to draw up a confession of their faith, expressed
in terms as little offensive to the Eoman catholics as a regard for truth would
permit. Melancthon, who seldom suffered the rancour of controversy to en-
venom his style, even m writings purely polemical, executed a task so agree-
able to his natural disposition with great moderation and address. The creed
which he composed, known by the name of the Confession of Augsburg, from,
the place where it was presented, was read publiclv iii the diet. _ Some popish
divines were appointed to examine it ; they brought in their animadversions ;
a dispute ensued between them and Melancthon, seconded by some of his
brethren ; but though Melancthon softened some articles, made concessions
with regard to others, and put the least exceptionable sense upon all ; though
the emperor himseK laboured with great earnestness to reconcile contending
parties ; so many marks of distinction were now established, and such in-
superable barriers placed between the two churches, that all hopes of bringing
about a coalition seemed utterly desperate.^^

Trom the diviaes, among whom liis endeavours had been so unsuccessful,
Charles turned to the princes their patrons. Nor did he find them, how
desirous soever of accommodation, or willing to_ oblige the emperor, more
disposed tlian the former to renounce then: opinions. At that time, zeal for
religion took possession of the minds of men, to a degree which can scarcely
be conceived by those who live in an age when the passions, excited by
the first manifestation of truth, and the first recovery of liberty, have in a
great measui-e ceased to operate. This zeal was then of such strength as
to overcome attachment to their political interests, which is commonly the
predominant motive among princes. The elector of Saxony, the landgrave-
of Hesse, and other chiefs of the protestants, though solicited separately by
the emperor, and allured by the promise or prospect of those advantages
which it was kno^vn they were more solicitous to attain, refused, with a forti-
tude higlily worthy of imitatioL, to abandon what they deemed the cause of
God, for the sake of any eartnly acquisition.^^

Eveiy scheme in order to gain or disunite the protestant party proving

88 Seckend. lib. ii. pp. 159, &c. Abr. Sculteti Annales Evangelici, ap. Herm. Von
der Hard. Hist. Liter. Reform. Lips. 1717, fol. p. 159.
39 Sleid. p, 132. Scnltet. Anual. p. 158.

BOOK v.] LEAGUE OT SMALKALDE. S^

abortive, notliinff now remained for the emperor bnt to take some vigorous
measures to waras asserting the doctrines and authority of tlie established
churcli. These Campcggio, the papal nuncio, had always recommended as
the only proper and ellcclual course of dealing with such obstinate heretics.
In compbance with his opinions and remonstrances, the diet issued a decree,
condemning most of the peculiar tenets held by the protestants ; forbidding
any person to protect or tolerate such as taught them ; enjoining a strict ob-
servance of the established rites ; and prohibiting any further innovation
imcler severe penalties. All orders of men were required to assist with their
persons and fortunes in canyin^ this decree into execution ; and such as re-
fused to obey it, were declared incapable of acting as judges, or of appearing
as parties in the imperial chamber, the supreme court of judicature in the
empire ; to all which was subjoined a promise, that an application^ should be
made to the pope, requiring him to call a general council within six months,
in order to tenninate all controversies by its sovereign decisions."

The severity of this decree, which was considered as a prelude to the most
violent persecution, alarmed the protestants, and convinced them that the
emperor was resolved on their destraction. The dread of those calamities
which were ready to fall on the church, oppressed the feeble spirit of Me-
lanethon ; and, as if tlie cause had already oeen desperate, he gave himself
up to melancholy and lamentation. But Luther, who during the meeting
of the diet had endeavoured to confirm and animate his party by several
treatises which he addressed to them, was not disconcerted or dismayed at
the prospect of this new danger. He comforted Melancthon and his other
despoudiug disciples, and exhorted the princes not to abandon those truths
wliich they had lately asserted with such laudable boldness.''^ His exhorta-
tions made the deeper impression upon them, as they were greatly alarmed
at that time by the account of a combination among the popish princes of
the empire for the maintenance of the established religion, to which Charles
himseit had acceded.*'-^ This convinced them that it was necessary to stand
on their guard ; and that their own safety, as well as the success of their
cause, depended on union. Tilled with tins dread of the adverse party, and
with these sentiments concerning the conduct proper for themselves, they
assembled at Smalkalde. There they concluded a league of mutual defence
agaiost aE aggressors,*^ by which they formed the protestant states of the
empire into one regular body, and, beginning already to consider themselves
as such, they resolved to apply to the kiags of France and England, and to

IDplore them to patronise and assist their new confederacy.
An affair not connected with religion furnished them with a pretence for
aui-ting the aid of foreign princes. ^Charles, whose ambitious views enlarged
I proportion to the increase of his power and grandeui', had formed a
Bheme of continuing the imperial crown in his fanuly, by procuring his
rother Ferdinand to be elected king of the Romans. The present juncture
^s favourable for the execution of that design. The emperor's arms had
een everywhere victorious ; he had given law to aU Europe at the late peace •
no rival now remained in a condition to balance or to control him; ana

Iie electors J dazzled with the splendour of his success, or overawed by the
real uess ot his po^ye^, durst scarcely dispute the will of a prince, whose soli-
tations carried with them the authority of commands. Nor did he want
lausible reasons to enforce the measure. The affairs of Ms other kingdoms,
i said, obliged him to be often absent from Germany; the growing dis-
orders occasioned by the controversies about religion, as well as the formid-

*« Sleid. p. 139. " Seckend. ii. p. 180. Sleid. p. 140.

« Seckend. ii. p. 200,- iii. o. 11. « Sleid. p. 142.

&3

244 NEGOTIATIONS OF THE PROTESTANTS. [BOOK V,

able neighbourhood of the Turks, who continually threatened to break in
with their desolating armies into the heart of the empire, required the con-
stant presence of a prince endowed with prudence capable of composing the
foj-mer, and with power as well as valour sufficient to repel the latter. His
brother Eerdinand possessed these qualities in an eminent degree ; by residing
long in Germany, he had acquired a thorough knowledge of its constitution
and maimers ; having been present almost from the first rise of the religious
dissensions, he knew what remedies were most proper, what the Germans
could bear, and how to apply them ; as his own dominions lay on the Turkish
frontier, he was the natural defender of Germany against the invasions
of the infidels, being prompted by interest no less than he ^'ould be bound
in duty to oppose them.

These arguments made little impression on the protestants. Experience
taught them that nothing had contributed more to the undisturbed progress
of their opinions, than the interregnum after Maximilian's death, the long
absence of Charles, and the slackness of the reins of government which these
occasioned. Conscious of the advantages which their cause had derived from
this relaxation of government, they were unwilling to render it more vigorous
by giving themselves a new and a fixed master. They perceived clearly
the extent of Charles's ambition, that he aimed at rendering the imperial
crown hereditary in his family, and would of course establish in the empire
an absolute dominion, to which elective princes could not have aspired with
equal facility. They determined, therefore, to oppose the election of Eer-
dmand with the utmost vigour, and to rouse their countrymen, by their
example and exhortations, to withstand this encroachment on their liberties.
[1531.] The elector of Saxony, accordingly, not only refused to be present at
the electoral college, which the emperor summoned to meet at Cologne, but
instructed his eldest son to appear there, and to protest against the election
as informal, illegal, contrary to the articles of the golden buU, and sub-
versive of the liberties of the empire. But the other electors, whom Charles
had been at great pains to gain, without regarding either liis absence or
protest, chose Eerdinand king of the Romans ; who, a few days after, was
croMTied at Aix-la-Chapelle.^*

When the protestants, who were assembled a second time at Smalkalde,
received an account of this transaction, and heard, at the same time, that
prosecutions were commenced in the imperial chamber against some of their
number, on account of their religious principles, they thought it necessary not
only to renew their former confederacy, but immediately to despatch their am-
bassadors into France and England. Erancis had observed, with all the
jealousy of a rival, the reputation which the emperor had acquired by his
seeming disinterestedness and moderation in settling the affairs in Italy ; and
beheld with great concern the successful step which he had taken towards
perpetuating and extendiag his authority in Germany by the election of _a
king of the Romans. Nothing, however, would have been more impolitic
than to precipitate his kingdom into a new war, when exhausted by extra-
ordinary efforts, and discouraged by ill-success, before it had got time to
recruit its strength, or to forget past misfortunes. As no provocation had
been giyen by the emperor, and hardly a pretext for a rupture had been
afforded him, he could not violate a treaty of peace which he himself had so
lately solicited, without forfeiting the esteem of all Europe, and being detested
as a prince void of probity and honour. He observed, with great joy, power-
ful factions beginning to form in the empii-e ; he listened with the utmost
eagerness to the complaints of the protestant princes ; and, without seeming

" Sleid. p- 142. Seckend. iii. p. 1. P. Heuter Rer. Austr. Jib. x. ch. 6, p. 240.

BOOK v.] ClIAilLES GltiLNTS TilEAl FAVOUBABLE TERMS. 245

to countciumce their religious opinions, determined secretly to clierisli those
sparks of polit ieid discord which might be afterwurds kindled into a flame.
For this purpose, he sent Wiiliam de Bellay, one of the ablest negotiators
in France, into Germany, who, visiting the courts of the maleeontent' princes,
and iieighteiuug their ill humour by various arts, concluded an alliance be-
tween tiieui and his master," which, though concealed at that time, and pro-
duclive of no imniediale ell'ects, laid the fomidation of a union fatal on many
occasions to Charles's ambitious projects; and showed the discontented
princes of Germany where, for the future, they might iind a protector no
less able that willing to undertake their defence agamst the encroachments
of the eniperor.

The king of England, highlv incensed against Charles, in comj)laisance to
whom the pope had long retarded, and now openly opposed, his divorce, was
no less disposed than Francis to strengthen a league which might be rendered
so formidable to the emperor. But his favourite project of the divorce led
him into such a labyrinth of schemes and negotiations, and he was, at the
same time, so intent on abolishing the papal jurisdiction in England, that he
had no leisure for foreign affairs. This obliged him to rest satisfied with
giving general promises, together with a small supply in money, to the con-
federates of Smalkalde.'**^

Meanwiiile, many circumstances convinced Charles that this was not a junc-
ture when the extii'pation of heresy was to be attempted by violence and
rigour ; that, in compliance with the pope's inclinations, he had already pro-
ceeded with imprudent precipitation ; and that it was more his interest to
consolidate Germany into one united and vigorous body, than to divide and
enfeeble it by a civil war. The protestants, who were considerable, as well by
their numbers as by their zeal, had acquired additional weight and importance
by their joining in that confederacy into wliich the rash steps taken at
Augsburg had forced them. Having now discovered their own strength,
they despised the decisions of the imperial chamber : and, being secui-e of
foreign protection, were ready to set the head of the empire at defiance. At
the same time, the peace with France was precarious, the friendship of an
irresolute and interested pontiff was not to be relied on ; and Solyman, in
order to repair the discredit and loss which his arms had sustained in the
former campaign, was preparing to enter Austria with more numerous forces.
On all these accoimts, especially the last, a speedy accommodation with the
niaiecontent princes became necessary, not oidy for the accomplishment of
Ins futm-e schemes, but tor ensuring his present safety. Negotiations were,
accordingly, carried on by his direction with the elector of Saxony and his as-
sociates ; and after many delays, occasioned by their jealousy of the emperor
and of each other ; after innumerable difficulties arising from the inflexible
nature of rehgious tenets, which cannot admit of being altered, modified, or
relinquished m the same manner as points of political interest, terms of
pacification were agreed upon at Nuremberg, and ratified solemnly in the diet
at Katisbon. In this treaty it was stipuhited that universal peace be esta-
blished in Germany, until the meeting of a general council, the convocation
of which within sLx months the emperor shall endeavour to procure ; that no
person shall be molested on account of religion ; that a stop shall be put
to all processes begun by the imperial chamber against protestants, and the
sentences already passed to their detriment shall be declared void. On their
part, the protestants engaged to assist the emperor with all their forces in
resisting the invasion of the Turks.*' Thus by tlieir firmness in adhering to

<5 Mem. de Bullay, pp. 129 a, 130 b. Seek. lii. p. 14. " Herbert, pp. 152, 154,

*^ Du Mont, Corps Diplomulique, torn, iv. part ii. pp. 87, 89.

246 CAMPAIGN IN HUNGARY. [BOOK V.

theii- principles, by the unanimity with which they urged all their claims,
and by their dexterity in availing themselves of the emperor's situation, the
protestants obtained terms which amounted almost to a toleration of their re-
ligion. All the concessions were made by Charles, none by them ; even the
favourite point of their approving his brother's election was not mentioned ;
and the protestants of Germany, who had hitherto been viewed only as a
religious sect, came henceforth to be considered as a political body of no
small consequence,**

[1532,] The intelligence which Charles received of Solyman's having
entered Hungary at the head of three hundred thousand men, brought the
deliberations of the diet at Ratisbon to a period ; the contingent both of
troops and money which each prince was to furnish towards the defence of
the empire having been already settled. The protestants, as a testunony of
their gratitude to the emperor, exei-ted themselves with extraordinary zeal,
and brought into the field forces which exceeded in number the quota im-
posed on them ; and the catholics imitating their example, one of the greatest
and best-appointed armies that had ever been levied in Germany assembled
near Vienna. Being joined by a body of Spanish and Italian veterans, under
the Marquis del Guasto ; by some heavy-armed cavalry from the Low Coun-
tries • and by the troops which Terdinand had raised in Bohemia, Austria,
and his other territories, it amounted in all to ninety thousand disciplined
foot, and thirty thousand horse, besides a prodigous swarm of irregulars.
Of this vast army, worthy the first prince in Chiistendom, the emperor took
the command in person, and mankind waited in suspense the issue of a de-
cisive battle between the two greatest monarchs in the world. But each
of them dreading the other's power and good fortune, they both conducted
their operations with such excessive caution, that a campaign, for which such
immense preparations had been made, ended without any memorable event.
Solyman, finding it impossible to gain ground upon an enemy always attentive
and on his guard, marched back to Constantinople towards the end of
autumn.''^ It is remarkable, that in such a martial age, when every gentle-
man was a soldier, anduevery prince a general, this was the first time that
Charles, who had already carried on such extensive wars, and gained so many
victories, appeared at the head of his troops. In tliis first essay of his arms,
to have opposed such a leader as Solyman was no small honoui' ; to have
obliged him to retreat, merited very considerable praise.

About the beginning of this campaign, the elector of Saxony died, and
was succeeded by his son, John rrederick. The refonnation rather gained
than lost by that event ; the new elector, no less attached than his prede-
cessors to the opinions of Luther, occupied the station which they had held
at the head of the protestant party, and defended, with the boldness and
zeal of youth, that cause which tliey had fostered and reared with the caution
of more advanced age.

Immediately after the retreat of the Tui'ks, Charles, impatient to revisit
Spain, set out on his way thither, for Italy. As he was extremely desirous of
an interview with the pope, they met a second tinie at Bologna, with the
same external demonstrations of respect and friendship, but with little of that
confidence which had subsisted between them during their late negotiations
there. Clement was much dissatisfied with the emperor's proceedings at
Augsburg; his concessions -with regard to the speedy convocation of a council
having more than cancelled all the merit of the severe decree against the
doctrines of the reformers. The toleration gTanted to the protestants at

*8 Sleid. pp. 149, &c. Seckend. iii, p, 19.

" Jovii Hist, lib, xxx. pp. 100, &c. Barre, Hist, de I'Empire. i. pp. 8, 3-17.

i.'JOK v.] LEAGUE WITH THE ITAUAN STATES. 247

llatisbon, aud the more explicit promise concerning a council, vnth. which
it was accompanied, had irritated nim still farther. Charles, however, partly
from conviction that the meeting of a council would be attended with salutary
""ects, and partly from his desire to please the Germans, liaving solicited the
pe by his ambassadors to call that assembly without delay, and now urging
c same thing in person, Clement was greatly embarrassed what reply he
ould make to a request which it was indecent to refuse, and dangerous to
ant. He endeavoured at first to divert Charles from the measure ; but,
ding him inflexible, he had recourse to artifices which he knew would delav,
. not" entirelv defeat, the calling of that assembly. Under the plausible
rctext of its being previously necessary to settle, with all parties concerned
c place of the council's meeting, the maimer of its proceedings, the right
the persons who should be admitted to vote, and the authority of their de-
ions, he despatched a nuncio, accompanied by an ambassador from the em-
.ror, to the elector of Saxony, as head of tlie protestants. With regard to
,ch of these articles, inextricable difiiculties and contests arose. The pro-
tants demanded a council to be held in Germany j the pope insisted that
should meet in Italy : they contended that all pomts in dispute should be
tennined by the words of holy scripture alone; he considered not only
e decrees of the church, but the opinions of fathei-s and doctors, as of
ual authority : they reqidred a free council, in which the divines, commis-
ned by difi'erent churches, should be allowed a voice; he aimed at mo-
eUing the council in such a manner as would render it entircly dependent on
his pleasure. Above all, the protestants thought it unreasonable that they
should bind themselves to submit to the decrees of a council, before they
knew on what principles these decrees were to be founded, by what persons
they were to be pronounced, and what forms of proceeduig they would ob-
serve. The pope maintained it to be altogether unnecessary to call a council,
if those who demanded it did not previously declare^ their resolution to
acquiesce in its decrees. In order to adjust such a variety of points, many
expedients were proposed, and the negotiations spun out to such a length, as
eflecttiaUy answered Clement's purpose of putting oS the meeting of a council,
without drawing on himself the whole infamy of obstructing a measure which
all Eui-ope deemed so essential to the good of the church.^"

Together with this negotiation about calling a council, the emperor carried
on another, which he had still more at heart, for securing the peace esta-
hed in Italy. As Francis had renounced his pretensions in that countn
ith great reluctance, Charles made no doubt but that he would lay hold on
e first pretext afforded him, or embrace the first opportunity which pre-
sented itself, of recovering what he had lost. It became necessaiT, on this
account, to take measures for assembling an army able to oppose nim. As
his treasury, drained by a long war, could not supply the sums requisite for
keeping such a body constantly on foot, he attemptea to throw that bui-den
on his aUies, and to provide for the safety of his own dominions at their ex-
pense, by proposing that the Italian states should enter into a league of
defence against all invaders ; that, on the first appearance of danger, an army
shoidd be raised and maintained at the common charge ; and that Antonio de
Leyva should be appointed the generalissimo [1583]. Nor was the proposal
unacceptable to Clement, though for a reason very different from that wjiich
induced the eniperor to make it. He hoped, by 'this expedient, to deliver
Italy from the German and Spanish veterans, which had so long filled all the
powers in that country with teiTor, and still kept them in subjection to the
imperial yoke. A league was accordingly concluded ; all the Italian states,

50 F. Paul, Hist. p. 62. Seckend. iii. p. 73.

, on

i^Us;

248 MOVEMENTS OF FRANCIS. [BOOKV.

the Venetians excepted, acceded to it; the sum which each of the contracting
parties should furnish towards maintaining the army was fixed ; the emperor
agreed to withdraw the troops which gave so much umbrage to liis allies, and
which he was unable any longer to support. Having disbanded part of tliem,
and removed the rest to Sicily and Spain, he embarked on board Dona's
galleys and arrived at Barcelona.^^

Notwithstanding all his precautions for securing the peace of Gennany,
and maintaining that system which he had established in Italy, the emperor
became every day more and more apprehensive that both would be soon dis-
turbed by the intrigues or arms of the French king. His apprehensions were
well founded, as nothing but the desperate situation of his affairs could have
brought Francis to give his consent to a treaty so dishonourable and disadvan-
tageous as that of Carabray ; he, at the very time of ratifying it, had formed a
resolution to observe it no longer than necessity compelled him, and took a
solemn protest, though with the most profound secrecy, against several ar-
ticles in the treaty, particularly that whereby he renounced all pretensions to
the duchy of Milan, as unjust, injurious to his heirs, and invalid. One of the
crown lawyers, by his command, entered a protest to the same purpose, and
with the like secrecy, when the ratification of the treaty was registered in
the parliament of Paris.^^ Francis seems to have thought that, by employing
an artifice unworthy of a king, destructive of public faith, and of the mutual
confidence on which all transactions between nations are founded, he was re-
leased from any obligation to perform the most solemn promises, or to adhere
to the most sacred engagements. From the moment he concluded the peace
of Cambray, he wished and watched for an opportunity of violating it with
safety. He endeavoured for that reason to strengthen his alliance with the
king of England, whose friendship he cultivated with the greatest assiduity.
He put the military force of his own kingdom on a better and more respect-
able footing than ever. He artfully fomented the jealousy and discontent
of the German princes.

But above all, Francis laboured to break the strict confederacy which sub-
sisted between Charles and Clement ; and he had soon the satisfaction to
observe appearances of disgust and alienation arising in the mind of that
suspicious and interested pontiff, which gave him hopes that their imion
would not be lasting. As the emperor's decision in favour of the duke of
Fei-rara had greatly irritated the pope, Francis aggravated the injustice of that
proceeding, and flattered Clement that the papal see would find in him a m9re
impartial and no less powerful protector. As the importunity with which
Charles demanded a council was extremely offensive to the pope, Francis art-
fully created obstacles to prevent it, and attempted to divert the German
princes, his allies, from insisting so obstinately on that point.^^ As the em-
peror had gained such an ascendant over Clement by contributing to aggran-
dize his family, Francis endeavoured to allure him by the same irresistible
bait, proposing a marriage between his second son, Henry, duke of Orleans,
and Catharine, the daughter of the pope's cousm, Laurence de Medici. On
the first overture of this match, the emperor could not persuade himself that
Francis really intended to debase the royal blood of France by an alHance
with Catharine, whose anccistors had been so lately private citizens and mer-
chants in Florence, and believed that he meant only to flatter or amuse the
ambitious pontiff. He thought it necessary, however, to efface the impression
which such a dazzling offer might have made, by promising to break off the

51 Guic. lib. XX. p. 551 Ferreras, ix. p. 149.

52 Du Mont, Corps Diplom. torn. iv. part ii. p. 52.

53 Mem. de Bellay, pp. 141, &c. Seckend. hi, p. 48. F. Paul, p. 63,

BOOK V,] IKTER\TEW BETWEEN FBANCIS AND THE POPE. 249

marriage wliicli had been agreed on between his own niece, the kin^ of Den-
mark's daughter, and tlie duke of Milan, and to substitute Catharine in her
place. But the French ambassador producing unexpectedly full powers to
conclude the marriage treaty with the duke of Orleans, this expedient had
no effect. Clement was so highlj' pleased with an honour which added such
lustre and dignity to the house ot Medici, that he offered to grant Catharine
the investiture of considerable territories in Italv, by way of portion ; he
seemed ready to support Francis in prosecuting his ancient claims in that
country, and consented to a personal interview with that monarch/*

Charles was at the utmost pains to prevent a meeting, in which nothing
was likely to pass but what would be of detriment to him ; nor could he bear,
after he had twice condescended to visit the pope in his own territories, that
Clement should bestow such a mark of distinction on his rival, as to venture
on a voyage by sea, at an unfavourable season, in order to pay court to Francis
in the French dominions. But the pope's eagerness to accomplish the match
overcame all the scruples of pride, or fear, or jealousy, which would have pro-
bably influenced him on any other occasion. The interview, notwithstanding
several artifices of the emperor to prevent it, took place at Marseilles with
extraordinary pomp, and demonstrations of confidence on both sides; and
the marriage, which the ambition and abilities of Catharine rendered in the
sequel as pernicious to France, as it was then thought dishonourable, was
consummated. But whatever schemes may have been secretly concerted by
the pope and Francis in favour of the duke of Orleans, to whom his father
proposed to make over all his rights in Italy, so careful were they to avoid

fiving any cause of offence to the emperor, that no treaty was concluded
etween them ;" and even in the marriage-articles, Catharine renounced all
claims and pretensions in Italy, except to the duchy of Urbiiio.^'^

But at the very time when he was carrying on these negotiations, and form-
ing this connexion with Francis, which gave so great umbrage to the emperor,
such was the artifice and duplicity of ClemenVs character, that he suffered
the latter to direct all his proceedings with regard to the king of England,
and was no less attentive to gratify him in that particular, than if the most
cordial union had subsisted between them. Henry's suit for a divorce had
now continued near six years ; during all which period the pope negotiated,
promised, retracted, and concluded nothing. After bearing repeated delays
and disappointments longer than could have been expected from a prince of
such a choleric and impetuous temper, the patience of Henry was at last so
much exhausted, that he appHed to another tribunal for that decree, which
he had solicited in vain at llome. Cranmer, archbishop of Canterbury, by
a sentence founded on the authority of universities, doctors, and rabbies, who
had been consulted with respect to the point, annulled the king's marriage
with Catharine ; her daughter was declared illegitimate ; and Anne Boleyn
acknowledged as queen of England. At the same time, Henry began not only
to neglect and to threaten the pope, Avhom he had hitherto courted, but to
make innovations in the church of which he had formerly been such a zealous
defender. Clement, who had already seen so many provinces and kingdoms
revolt from the holy see, became apprehensive at last that England might
imitate their example ; and partly from his solicitude to prevent that fatal
blow, partly in compliance with the French king's solicitations, determined
to give Henry such satisfaction as mi^ht retain him within the bosom of the
church. But the violence of the cardinals, devoted to the emperor, did not
allow the pope leisure for executing this prudent resolution, and hurried him,

M Guic. ib. XX. pp. 551, 553. M^m. de Bellay, p. 138.

" Guic. lib. XX. p. 555. *« Da Mont, Corps Diplom. ir. part ii. p. 101.

I^lk » Guic. .

250 DEATH OP ClEaiENT THE SEVENTH. [BOOK V.

with a precipitation fatal to tlie Roman see, to issue a bull rescinding Cran-
mer's sentence, confirming Henry^s marriage with Catharine, and declaring
him excommunicated, if, within a time specified, he did not abandon the wile
he had taken, and return to her whom he had deserted. Enraged at this un-
expected decree, Henry kept no longer any measures with the court of Rome ;
his subjects seconded his resentment and indignation ; an act of parliament
was passed, aboHshiag the papal power and jurisdiction in England; by
another, the king was declared supreme head of the church, and all the au-
thority of which the popes were deprived was vested ia hun. That vast fabric
of ecclesiastical dominion which had been raised with such art, and of which
the foundations seemed to have been laid so deep, being no longer supported
by the veneration of the people, was overturned m a moment. Henry hunself,
with a caprice peculiar to his character, continued to defend the doctiines of
the Romish church as fiercely as he attacked its jurisdiction. He alternately
persecuted the protestants for rejecting the former, and the catholics for
acknowledging the latter. But his subjects, being once permitted to enter
into new paths, did not choose to stop short at the precise point prescribed by
him. Having been encouraged by his example to break some of their fetters,
they were so impatient to shake off what still remained," that in the fol-
lowing reign, with the applause of the greater part of the nation, a total sepa-
ration was made from the church of Rome in articles of doctrine, as well as
in matters of discipline and jurisdiction.

A short delay might have saved the see of Rome from all the unhappy con-
sequences of Clement's rashness. Soon after his sentence against Henry,
he fell into a languishing distemper, which gradually wasting his constitution,
put an end to Ms pontificate, the most unfortunate, both during its con-
tinuance, and by its effects, that the church had known for many ages. The
very day on which the cardinals entered the conclave, they raised to the
papal throne Alexander Eamese, dean of the sacred college, and the oldest
member of that body, who assumed the name of Paul III. The account of
his promotion was received with extraordinary acclamations of joy by the
people of Rome, higlily pleased, after an interval of more than a hundred
years, to see the crown of St. Peter placed on the head of a Roman citizen.
Persons more capable of judging, fonned a favoui-able presage of his ad-
ministration, from the experience which he had acquired under four pon-
tificates, as well as the cliaracter of prudence and moderation which he had
uniformly maintained in a station of great eminence, and during an active
period tliat required both talents and address.^^

Europe, it is probable, owed the continuance of its peace to the death of
Clement ; for, although no traces remain in history of any leagnie concluded
between liim and Erancis, it is scarcely to be doubted but that he would
have seconded the operations of the Erench arms in Italy, that he might have
gratified his ambition by seeing one of his family possessed of the supreme
power in Elorence, and another in MUan. But upon the election of Paul III.,
who had hitherto adliered uniformly to the imperial interest, Erancis found it
necessary to suspend his operations for some time, and to jjut oft" the com-
mencement of hostilities against the emperor, on which, before the death of
Clement, he had been fully determined.

While Erancis waited for an opportunity to renew a war which had hitherto
proved so fatal to himself and his subjects, a transaction of a verv singular
nature was carried on in Germany. Among many beneficial and saluta:y
effects of wliich the reformation was the immediate cause, it was attended,
as must be the case in all actions and events wherein men are concerned,

" Herbert. Burn. Hist, of Eefonn, ^ Guic lib. xx. P. 556. F. Paul, p. 64*

i

BOOK v.] UNTOWABJ) EESULTS OF THE HEPOBMATION, 251

with some consequences of an opposite nature. When the human mind is
roused by "^rand objects, and agitated by strong passions, its operations
acquire such force that they arc apt to become irregxdar and extravagant.
Upon any great revolution in religion, such irregularities abound most, at
that pai'ticular period when men, having thrown off the authoritv of tneir
ancient priuciples, do not yet fully comprehend the nature, or feel the obUga-
tion of those new tenets which they have embraced. The mind in that
situation pushing forwai-d with the Doldness which prompted it to reject
established opiiiions, and not guided by a clear knowledge ot the system sub-
stituted m their place, disdams all restraint, and runs into wild notions,
which often lead to scandalous or immoral conduct. Thus, in the first ages
of the Christian church, many of the new converts, having renounced their
ancient s);stems of religious faith, and being but imperfectly acquainted with
the doctrines and precepts of Chiistianity, broached the most extravagant
opinions, equally subversive of piety and virtue ; all which errors disap-
peared, or were exploded, when the knowledge of religion increased, and
came to be more generally diffused. In like ma.mier, soon after Luther^s
appearance, the rashness or ignorance of some of his disciples led them to
pubKsh tenets no less absurd than pernicious, which being proposed to men
extremely illiterate, but fond of novelty, and at a time when their minds
were occupied cliieliy with rehgious speculations, gained too easy credit and
authority among them. To these causes must be imputed the extravagances
of Muncer, in the year one thousand five hundred and twenty-five, as well as
the rapid progress which his opinions made among the peasants ; out though
the insurrection excited by that fanatic was soon suppressed, several of ms
followers lurked in different places, and endeavoured privately to propagate
his opuiions.

In those provinces of Upper Grermany which had already been so cruelly
wasted by tlieir enthusiastic rage, the magistrates watched their motions
with such severe attention, that many of them found it necessary to retire
into other countries ; some were punished, others driven into exile, and their
errors were entirely rooted out. But in the Netherlands and "Westphalia,
where the pernicious tendency of their opinions was more unknown, and
guarded against with less care, they got admittance into several towns, and
spread the infection of their principles. The most remarkable of their re-
hgious tenets related to the sacrament of baptism, which, as they contended,
ou^ht to be administered only to persons grown up to years of understanding,
and should be performed, not by sprinkling them with water, but by dipping
them in it • for this reason they condemned the baptism of infants, and re-
baptizing all whom they admitted into their society, the sect came to be dis-
tinguished by the name of anabaptists. To this peculiar notion concerning
baptism, which has the appearance of being fomided on the practice of the
church in the apostolic age, and contains uothmg inconsistent with the peace
and order of human society, they added other principles of a most enthusiastic
as well as dangerous iiatui-e. They maintained that, among Christians who
had the precepts of the gospel to du'cct, and the Spirit of God to guide
them, the office of magistracy was not only unnecessary, but an milawful en-
croachment on their spiritual Hberty ; that the distinctions occasioned by
bhth, or rank, or wealth, being contrary to the spirit of the gospel, which
considers all men as equals, should be entirely abolished ; that all Christians,
throwing their possessions into one conmion stock, should live together in
that state of equaUty which becomes members of the same family ; that as
neither the laws of nature, nor the precepts of the New Testament, had im-
posed anv restramts upon men with regard to the number of wives which
they might marry, they should use that liberty which God himself had granted
to the patriarchs.

252 INSURRECTION OF ANABAPTISTS IN GERMANY. [BOOK Y

Such opinions, propagated and maintained with enthusiastic zea. and bold-
ness, were not long without producing the violent effects naturax to them.
Two anabaptist prophets, John Matthias, a baker of liaerlem, and John Boc-
cold, or Beiikels, a journeyman tailor of Leyden, possessed with the ra^e of
making proselytes, fixed their residence at Munster, an imperial city in West-
phalia, of the first rai_k, under the sovereignty of its bishop, but governed by
its own senate and consuls. As neither of these fanatics wanted the talents
requisite in desperate enterprises, great resolution, the appearance of sanctity,
bold pretensions to inspiration, and a confident and plausible manner of dis-
coursmg, they soon gained many converts. Among these were Rothman, who
had first preached the protestant doctrine in Munster, and Cnipperdoling, a
citizen of good birth and considerable emmence. Emboldened by the coun-
tenance of such disciples, they openly taught their opinions ; and not satisfied
with that liberty, they made several attempts, though without success, to
become masters of the town, in order to get their tenets established by public
authority. At last, having secretly called in their associates from the neigh-
bouring country, they suddenly took possession of the arsenal and senate-
house in the night-time, and running through the streets with drawn swords,
and horrible bowlings, cried out alternately, " Repent, and be baptized ;" and
" Depart, ye ungodly." The senators, the canons, the nobility, together with
the more sober citizens, whether papists or protestants, terrified at their
threats and outcries, fled in confusion, and left the city under the dominion of
a frantic multitude, consisting chiefly of strangers. Nothing now remaining
to overawe or control them, they set about modelling the government accord-
ing to their own wild ideas ; and though at first they showed so much reverence
for the ancient constitution, as to elect senators of their own sect, and to
appoint Cnipperdoling and another proselyte consuls, this was nothing more
than form ; for aU. their proceedings were directed by Matthias, who, in the
style, and with the authority of a prophet, uttered his commands, which it
was instant death to disobey. Having begun with encouraging the multitude
to pillage the churches and deface their ornaments, he enjoined them to
destroy all books except the Bible, as useless or impious ; he ordered the
estates of such as fled to be confiscated, and sold to the inhabitants of the
adjacent country ; he commanded every man to bring forth his gold, silver
and other precious efl'ects, and to lay them at his feet ; the wealth amassed
by these means, he deposited in a public treasury, and named deacons to
dispense it for the common use of all. The members of his commonwealth
being thus brought to a perfect equality, he commanded aU of them to eat
at tables prepared in public, and even prescribed the dishes which were to be
served up each day. Having finished his plan of reformation, his next care
was to provide for the defence of the city ; and he took measures for that
purpose with a prudence that savoured nothing of fanaticism. He collected
large magazines of every kind; he repaired and extended the fortifications,
obliging every person without distinction to work in liis turn; he formed
such as were capable of bearing arms into regular bodies, and endeavoured
to add the stability of discipline to the impetuosity of enthusiasm. He sent
emissaries to the anabaptists in the Low Countries, inviting them to assemble
at Munster, which he dignified with the name of Mount Sion, that from thence
they might set out to reduce all the nations of the earth under their dominion.
He liimself was unwearied in attending to everything necessary for the security
or increase of the sect ; animating his disciples by iiis own example to declme
no labour, as well as to submit to every hardship; and their enthusiastic
passions being kept from subsiding by a perpetual succession of exhortations,
revelations, and prophecies, they seemed ready to undertake or to suffer any-
thing in maintenance of their opinions.

BOOK v.] JOHN OF LEYDEN CROWNED KING. 253

While tliev were thus employed, the bishop of Munster, having assembled
a considerable army, advanced to besiege the town. On his approach, Mat-
thias sallied out at the head of some chosen troops, attacked one Quarter
of his camp, forced it, and, after great slaughter, returned to the city loaded
witli ^lory smd spoil. Intoxicated with this success, he appeared next day
brandishing a spear, and declared, that, in imitation of Gideon, he would go

I forth with a liandful of men, and smite the host of the ungodly. Thirty per-
sons, whom lie named, followed him without hesitation in this wild enter
jirise, and, rushing on the enemy with a frantic courage, were cut off to a man.
The death of their prophet occasioned at first great consternation among his
disciples ; but Boccold, by the same gifts and pretensions which had gained
Mattliias credit, soon revived their spirits and hopes to such a degree, that
he succeeded the deceased prophet in the same absolute direction of all their
atfau's. As he did not possess that enterprising courage which distinguished
his predecessor, he satisfied himself with carrying on a defensive war ; and,
•without attemi)ting to annoy the enemy by sallies, he waited for the succours
he expected from the Low Countries, the arrival of which was often foretold
and promised by their prophets. But though less daring in action than
Matthias, he was a wilder enthusiast, and of more unbounded ambition. S9on
after the death of his predecessor, having, by obscure visions and prophecies,
prepared the multitude for some extraordinary event, he stripped himself
naked, and, marching through the streets, proclaimed with a loud voice, " That
the kingdom of Sion was at hand ; that whatever was highest on earth should

■ be brought low, and whatever was lowest should be exalted.'' In order
to fulfil this, he commanded the churches, as the most lofty buildings in the
city, to be levelled with the ground; he degraded the senators chosen by
Matthias, and depriving Cnipperdoling of the considship, the highest office in
the commonwealth, appointed him to execute the lowest and most infamous,
that of common hangman, to whicii strange transition the other agreed, not
only without mm-muring, but witn the utmost joy; and such was the despotic
rigour of Boccoia's admiiastration, that he was called almost every day to
perform some dutv or other of his wretched function. In place of the deposed
senators, he name^ twelve judges, according to the number of tribes in Israel,
to preside in all affairs ; retaining to himself the same authority which Moses
anciently possessed as legislator of that people.

Not satisfied, however with power or titles which were not supreme,
a prophet, whom he had gained and tutored, having called the multitude
together, declared it to be the will of God that John Boccold should be kin^
of Sion, and sit on the throne of David. John, kneeling down, accepted
of the heavenly call, which he solemnly protested had been revealed likewise
to hunself, and was immediately acknowledged as monarch by the deluded

t multitude. Trom that moment he assumed all the state and pomp of royalty.
He wore a crown of gold, and was clad in the richest and most sumptuous
garments. A Bible was carried on his one hand, a naked sword on the other.
A great body of guards accompanied him when he appeared in public. ^ He
coined monev stamped wdth his o^\^^ ima^e, and appointed the great officers
of his household and kingdom, among vmom Cmpperdoling was nominated
governor of the city, as a reward for his former submission.

Having now attained the height of power, Boccold began to discover
passions which he had hitherto restrained, or indulged only in secret. As
the excesses of enthusiasm have been observed in everv age to lead to sensual
gratifications, the same constitution that is susceptible of the former being
remarkably prone to the latter, he instructed the prophets and teachers to
harangue the people for several days concerning the lawfulness, and even
necessity, of taking more wives than one, which they asserted to be one of

^ CONFEDERACY AGAINST THE ANAJ3APTISTS. [BOOK V,

the privileges granted by God to the saints. When their ears were once accus-
tomed to this licentious doctrine, and their passions inflamed with the pros-
pect of such unbounded indulgence, he himself set them an example of what
he called their Christian liberty, by maiTying at once three wives, among
which the widow of Matthias, a woman of singular beauty, was one. As he was
allured by beauty, or the love of variety, he gradually added to the number of
his wives, until they amounted to foui'teen, though the widow of Matthias was
the only one dignified with the title of queen, or who shared with him the
splendour and ornaments of royalty. After the example of their prophet, the
multitude gave themsdves up to the most licentious and uncontrolled gra-
tification of their desires. No man remained satisfied with a single wife.
Not to use their Christian liberty was deemed a crime. Persons were ap-
pomted to search the houses for young women grown up to maturity, whom
they instantly compelled to marry. Together with polygamy, freedom of
divorce, its inseparable attendant, was introduced, ana became a new source
of corruption. Every excess was committed, of which the passions of men
are capable, when restrained neither by the authority of laws nor the sense of
decency ;=» and by a monstrous and almost incredible conjunction, voluptuous-
ness was engrafted on religion, and dissolute riot accompanied the austerities
of fanatical devotion.

Meanwhile, the German princes were highly offended at the insult offered
to their dignity by Boccold's ;presuraptuous usurpation of royal honours ; and
the profligate manners of his followers, which were a reproach to the Christian
name, filled men of all. professions with horror. Luther, who liad testified
against this fanatical spirit on its first appearance, now deeply lamented its
progress, and having exposed the delusion with great strength of argument,
as well as acrimony of style, called loudly on aU. the states of (Germany
to put a stop to frenzy no less pernicious to society, than fatal to religion.
The emperor, occupied with other cares and projects, had not leisure to attend
to such a distant object ; but the princes of the empire, assembled by the king
of the Romans, voted a supply ot men and money to the bishop of Munster,
who, being unable to keep a sufiicient army on foot, had converted the siege
of the tmvn into a blockade. [1535,] The forces raised in consequence of this
resolution, were put under the command of an officer of experience, who,
approaching the town towards the end of spring, in the year one thousand
five hundred and thirty-five, pressed it more closely than formerly ; but found
the fortifications so strong, and so diligently guarded, that he durst not
attempt an assault. It was now about fifteen months since ^ the anabap-
tists had established their dominion in INIunster ; they liad during that time
undergone prodigious fatigue in working on the fortifications, and perform-
ing military duty. Notwithstanding the prudent attention of their king to
provide for their subsistence, and his frugal as well as regular economy in their
public meals, they began to feel the approach of famine. Several small
bodies of their brethren, who were advancing to their assistance from the
Low Countries, had been intercepted and cut to pieces ; and while aU Ger-

*9 Proplietas et concionatorum autoritate justa et exemplo, tota urbe ad rapiendas
pulcherrimas quasque foeminas discursum est. Nee intra paucos dies, in tauta hominum
turba, fere ulla reperta est supra annum decimum quartura, quae stuprum passa non
fuerit. Lamb. Hortens. p. 303. Yulgo viris quinas esse uxores, pluribus senas, nonnnllis
•septenas et octonas. Puellas supra duodecimum retatis annum statim amare. Id. p. 305.
N'emo una contentus fuit, neque cuiquam extra efFcetas et viris immaturas continenti
ease licuit. Id. p. 307. Tacebo hie, ut sit suus honor auribus, quanta barbariaet militia
usi sunt in puellis vitiandis nondum aptis matriraonio, id quodmihi neque exvano, neque
ex vulgi sermceibus haustum est. sed ex ea vetula, cui cura sic vitiatanim demaudata
ftiit, auditum. Job. Corvmus, p. 316.

BOOK v.] MUNSTER CAPTUEED, 255

many was ready to combiue affainst them, they had no prospect of succour.
But such was the ascendant w jiich Boccold had acquired over the multitude,
and so powerful the fascination of enthusiasm, tliat their hopes were as
sanguine as ever, and they liearkencd with implicit credulity to the visions
and predictions of their prophets, who assured them that the Almighty
would speedily interpose, in order to deliver the city. The faitli, however, of
some few. shaken by the violence and length of their sufferings, began to
faH ; but being suspected of an inclination to surrender to the enemy, they
were punished with immediate death, as guilty of impiety in distrustmg the
power of God, One of the king's wives, having uttered certain words which
unplied some doubt concerning his divine mission, he instantly called the
whole number together, and commanding the blasphemer, as he called her,
to kneel down, cut off her head with his own hands ; and so far were the rest
from expressing any horror at this cruel deed, that they joined him in dancing
with a frantic joy around the bleeding body of their companion.

By this time, the besieged endm-ed the utmost rigour of famine 5 but they
chose rather to suffer hardships, the recital of wliich is shockmg to hu-
manity, than to listen to the terms of capitulation offered them by the bishop.
At last a deserter, whom they had taken into their service, being either less
intoxicated with the fumes of enthusiasm, or unable any longer to bear such
distress, made his escape to the enemy. He informed their general of a weak
part in the fortifications which he ha'd observed ; and assui'ing him that the
besieged, exhausted with hunger and fatigue, kept watch there with little care,
he offered to lead a party thither in the night. The proposal was accepted,
and a chosen body of troops appointed for the service, who, scaling the walls
unperceived, seized one of the gates, and admitted the rest of the army.
The anabaptists, though surprised, defended themselves in the market-place
with valour heightened by despair j but being overpowered by numbers, and
surrounded on every hand, most ot them were slaia, and the remainder were
taken prisoners. Among the last were the king and Cnipperdoling. The
king, loaded with chains, was caniedfrom city to city as a spectacle to
gratify the curiosity of the people, and was exposed to all their insults. His
spirit, however, was not broken or humbled oy this sad reverse of his con-
dition ; and he adhered with unshaken firmness to the distin^shing tenets
of his sect. After this, he was brought back to Munster, tne scene of his
royalty and crimes, and put to death with the most exquisite, as well as
lingering tortures ; aU which he bore with astonishing fortitude. _ This ex-
traordinary man, who had been able to acquire such amazing dominion over
the minds of his followers, and to excite commotions so dangerous to society,
was only twenty-six years of age.^

Tpgether with its monarch, the kingdom of the anabaptists came to an end.
Their principles having taken deep root in the Low Countries, the party still
subsists there, under the name of Mennonites ; but, by a very singular revo-
lution, this sect, so mutiaous and sanguinary at its first origm, hath become
altogether innocent and pacific. Holding it lulla^vful to wage war, or to accept
of civil offices, they devote themselves entirely to the duties of private citizens,
and by their industry and charity endeavour to make reparation to human
society for the violence committed by their fomidcrs.*'\ A smaU number of
this sect which is settled in England, retain its peculiar tenets concerning
baptism, but without any dangerous mixture of enthusiasm.

^0 Sleid, pp. 190, &c. Tumnltuum Anabaptistanam liber unus, Ant. Lamberto
Hortensio Auctore, ap. Scardium, vol. ii, pp. 298, &c. De Miserabili Slonasteriensium
Obsidione, &c,, libellus Antonii Corvini, ap. Scar. p. 313. Annales Anabaptistici, a
Job. Henrico Ottio, 4to. Basileae, 1672, Cor. Heersbachius, Hist. Anab. edit. 1637, p. 140.

•1 Bayle, Diction, art. Andbaptistes

256 THE LEAGUE Oi' SMALKALDE. [bOOK V.

The mutiny of the anabaptists, though it drew general attention, did not so
entirely engross the princes of Germany, as not to allow leisure for other
transactions. Tlie alliance between the French king and the confederates
at Smalkalde, began about this time to produce gi-eat effects. Ulric, duke
of Wurtemberg, having been expelled his dominions in the year one thousand
five hundred and nineteen, on account of his violent and oppressive ad-
ministration, the house of Austria had got possession of his duchy. That
prince, having now by a long exile atoned for the errors in his conduct,
which were the effect rather of inexperience than of a tyrannical disposition,
was become the object of general compassion. The landgrave of Hesse, in
particular, his near relation, warmly espoused his interest, and used many
efforts to recover for him his ancient inheritance. But the king of the
Romans obstinately refused to relinquish a valuable acquisition which his
family had made with so much ease. The landgrave, unable to compel him,
applied to the king of Trance, his new ally. Trancis, eager to embrace any
opportunity of distressing the liouse of Austria, and desirous of %vresting
from it a territory which gave it footing and influence in a part of Germany
at a distance from its other dominions, encouraged the landgrave to take
arms, and secretly suppKed him Mdth a large sum of money. This he em-
ployed to raise troops ; and, marching with great expedition towards Wur-
temberg, attacked, defeated, and dispersed a considerable hodj of Austrians,
intrusted with the defence of the country. All the duke's subjects hastened,
with emulation, to receive their native prince, and re-invested him with that
authority which is still enjoyed by his descendants. At the same time, the
exercise of the protestant religion was established in his dominions."^

Ferdinand, how sensible soever of tliis unexpected blow, not daring to
attack a prince whom all the protestant powers in Germany were ready to
support, judged it expedient to conclude a treaty with him, by which, in the
most ample form, he recognised his title to the duchv. The success of the
landgrave's operations, in behalf of the duke of AVurteniberg, having convinced
Ferdinand that a mpture with a league so formidable as that of Smalkalde,
was to be avoided with the utmost care, he entered likewise into a negotiation
with the elector of Saxony, the head of that union, and by some concessions
in favour of the protestant religion, and others of advantage to the elector
himself, he prevailed on hun, together with his confederates, to acknowledge
his title as king of tlie Romans. _At the same time, in order to prevent any
such precipitate or irregular election in times to come, it was agreed that no
person should hereafter be promoted to that dignity without the unanimous
consent of the electors ; and the emperor soon after confirmed this stipula-
tion.®*

These acts of indulgence towards the protestants, and the close union into
wliich the king of the Romans seemed to be entering with the princes of that
party, gave great offence at Rome. Paul III., though he had departed from
a resolution of his predecessor, never to consent to the calling of a general
council, and had promised, in the first consistory held after his election, that
he would convoke that assembly so much desired by all Christendom, was no
less enraged than Clement at the innovations in Germany, and no less averse
to any scheme for reformmg either the doctrines of the church, or the abuses
in the court of Rome. But having been a witness of the universal censure
which Clement had ineun-ed by his obstinacy with regard to these points,
he hoped to avoid the same reproach by the seeming alacrity with which he
proposed a council ; flattering himself, however, that such difficulties would

62 Sleid. p. 172. M^m. de Bellay, pp. 159, &c.
•3 Sleid. p 173. Corps Diplom. torn. iv. pp. 2, 119

POOR v.] Charles's expedition to Africa. 257

arise concemiug the time and place of meeting, the persons wlio had a ri^ht
1 o be present, and the order of their proceedings, as would effectually defeat
_lhe intention of those who demanded that assemblv, without exposing' himself
" any imputation for refusing to call it, AVith this view, he despatched nun-
)s to the several courts, in order to make kno'^ii his intention, that he had
ed on Mantua as a nroper place in which to hold the council. Such
Eculties as the pope had foreseen, immediately presented themselves in
?at number. The French king did not approve of the place which Paul
d chosen, as the papal and imperial influence would necessarily be too
?at in a town situated in that part of Italy. The King of England not
ly concurred with Francis in ur^-ing that objection, but refused, besides,
acknowledge any council called in the name and bv the authority of the
>pe. The German protestants having met together at Smalkalde, insisted on
jir original demand of a council to be held in Gcnnany, and pleading
s emperor's promise, as well as the agreement at Katisbou to that effect,
blared that they would not consider an assemblv held at Mantua as a legal
free representative of the church. By this diversity of sentiments and
lews, such a field for intrigue and negotiation opened, as made it easy for
the pope to assume the merit of being eager to assemble a council, while at
the same time he could put off its meeting at pleasure. The protestants, on
the other hand, suspectmg his designs, and sensible of the importance which
they derived from their union, renewed for ten years the leag-ue of Smalkalde,
which now became stronger and more formidable by the accession of several
new members.^*

During these transactions in Germany, the emperor undertook his famous
enterprise against the piratical states in Africa. That part of the African
continent lying along the coast of the Mediterranean sea, which anciently
formed the* kingdoms of Mauritania and MassyKa, together with the republic
of Carthage, and which is now known by the general name of Barbary, had
undergone many revolutions. Subdued by the llomans, it became a proviuce
v)f their empire'. When it was conquered afterwards by the Vandals, they
erected a kingdom there. That being overturned by Belisarius, the country
became subject to the Greek emperors, and continued to be so until it was
overrun, towards the end of the seventh century, by the rapid and ii-resistible
arms of the Arabians. It remained for some time a part of that vast empire
which the caliphs governed with absolute authority. Its immense distance,
however, from the seat of government, encouraged the descendants of those
leaders who had subdued the country, or the chiefs of the Moors, its ancient
inliabitants, to thi'ow off the yoke, and to assert their independence. The
caliphs, who derived their authority from a spirit of enthusiasm, more fitted
for making conquests than for preserving them, were obliged to comiive at
acts of rebellion which they could not prevent ; and Barbary was divided into
several kingdoms, of which Morocco, Algiers, and Tunis, were the most cor -
siderable. The inhabitants of these kingdoms were a mixed race, Arabs,
Negroes from the southern proviuces, and ]\Ioors, either natives of aUrica,
or who had been expelled out of Spaing all zealous professors of the Maho-

^* This league was concluded December, one thousand five bundi-ed and thirty-five,
but not extended or signed in form till September in the following year. The princes
who acceded to it were, John, elector of Siisony ; Ernest, duke ot Brunswick ; Philip,
landgrave of Hesse; Ulric, duke of Wurtemberg; Barnim and Philip, dukes of Pome-
rania ; John, George, and Joachim, princes of Anhalt ; Gebhard and Albert, counts of
Mansfield ; NVillium, count of Nassau. The cities, Strasburg, Nuremberg, Constance,
Ulm, Magdeburg, Bremen, Keutlingen, Hailbron, Memmengen, Lindau, Campen, Jsna,
Bibrac , \\ indslieim, Augsburg, Frankfort, Esling, Brunswick, Goslar, Hanover, Got-
titjgen, Eimbeck, Hamburg, Miuden.

258 THE iJAEiiARossAS. [book V

metan religion, and inflamed against Christianity witii a bigoted liatrcd iDro-
portional to their ignorance and barbarous manners.

Among these people, no less daring, inconstant, and treacherous, than the
ancient inhabitants of the same country described by the Roman historians,
frequent seditions broke out, and many changes in government took place.
These, as they affected only the internal state of a country extremely bar-
barous, are but Kttle known, and deserve to be so. But about the beginning
of the sixteenth century a sudden revolution happened, which, by rendering
the states of Barbary formidable to the Europetms, hath made their history
worthy of more attention. This revolution was brought about by persons
born in a rank of life which entitled them to act no such illustrious part.
Horuc and Hayradin, the sons of a potter in the isle of Lesbos, prompted by a
restless and enterprising spii-it, forsook their father's trade, ran to sea, and
joined a crew of pirates. Ihey soon distuiguished themselves by their valour
and activity, and, becoming masters of a small brigantine, carried on their
infamous trade with such conduct and success, that they assembled a fleet of
twelve galleys, besides many vessels of smaller force. Of this fleet, Horuc,
tlie elder brother, called Barbarossa from the red colour of his beard, was
admiral, and Hayradin, second in command, but with almost equal authority.
They called themselves the friends of the sea, and the enemies of all who sail
upon it ; and their names soon became terrible from the Straits of the Darda-
nelles to those of Gibraltar. Together with their fame and power, their
ambitious views extended ; and while acting as corsaii-s, thej[ adopted the
ideas and acquked the talents of conquerors. They often earned the prizes
which thev took on the coasts of Spain and Italy into the ports of Barbary,
and, em-icliing the inhabitants by the sale of their booty, and the thoughtless
prodigality of theii' crews, were welcome guests ui every place at which they
touched. The convenient situation of these harbours, lying so near the
greatest commercial states at that time in Christendom, made the brothers
wish for an establishment in that country. An opportunity of accomplishing
this quickly presented itself, which they did not suffer to pass unimproved.
Eutemi, king of Algiers, having attempted several times, without success, to
take a fort which the Spanish governors of Oran had built not far from
his capital, was so ill-advised as to apply for aid to Barbarossa, whose valour
the Africans considered as irresistible. [1516.] The activb corsair gladly
accepted of the invitation, and, leaving his brother Hayradin with the fleet,
inarched at the head of five thousand men to Algiers, where he was received
as tlieir deliverer. Such a force gave him the command of the town ; and as
he perceived that the Moors neither suspected hun of any bad intention, nor
were capable with their light-armed troops of opposing liis oisciijlined veterans,
he secretly murdered the monarch whom he had come to assist, and proclauned
himself king of Algiers in his stead. The authority wliieh he had tlius boldly
usurped, he endeavoured to establish by arts suited to the genius of the
people vfliom he had to govern; by liberality without bomids to those who
favoured his promotion, and by cruelty no less unbounded towards all whom
he had any reason to distrust. Not satisfied with the throne which he had
acquired, he attacked the neighbouring king of Tremecen, and having van-
quished him in battle, added his dominions to those of Algiers. At the same
Time, he continued to infest the coasts of Spain and Italy with fleets which
resembled tlie armaments of a great monarch, rather than the light squadrons
of a corsair. Their frequent and cruel devastations obliged Charles, about
the beginning of his reign, [151S,] to furnish the Marquis de Comares, go-
vernor of Oran, with troops sufficient to attack him. That officer, assisted
by the dethroned king of Tremecen, executed the commission with such
spirit, tl'.at Barbarossa's troops being beaten in several encounters, he hiii>

BOOK v.] BATvEAIlOSSA-'s lA'TKIGUiiS, 259

self was shut up in Tremccen. After defending; it to the last extremity, ]ie
was overtaken in attempting to make liis escape,, and slain while he fought
with an obstinate valour, worthy of his former fame and exploits.

His brother Hayradin, known likewise by the name of Barbai'ossa, assumed
the sceptre of -Vlgiers with the same ambition and abilities, but \v:th better
fortune, liis reign being undisturbed by the arms of the Spaniards, which
had full occupation in the wars among the European powers, he regidatecl
with admirable prudence the interior police of his kingdom, carried on his
naval operations with great vigour, ana extended liis conquests on the con-
tinent of Africa, But perceiving that the Moors and Arabs submitted to his
fovemment with the utmost reluctance, and being afraid that his continual
epredations would, one day, draw upon him the anns of the Christians, he
put his dominions under the protection of the grand seignior, and received
from him a body of Turkish soldiers sufficient for his security against his do-
mestic as well as his foreign enemies. At last, the fame of his exT)loits daily
increasing, Solyman oiiered him the command of the Tui'kish fleet, as the
only person whose valour and skill in naval affairs entitled him to command
against Andrew Doria, the greatest sea-ofiicer of that age. Proud of this dis-
tinction, Barbarossa repaked to Constantinople, and with a wonderful versa-
tility of mind, mingling the ai'ts of a courtier with the boldness of a corsair,
gained the entire conlideuee both of the sultan and his vizier. To them he
communicated a scheme which he had formed of making himself master of
Tunis, the most flourishing kingdom at that time on the coast of Africa ; and
this being approved of by them, he obtained whatever he demanded for carry-
ing it into execution.

His hopes of success in this undertaking were founded on the intestine di-
visions in the kingdom of Tunis. Maluned, the last king of that country,
having thirty-four sous by diiierent wives, appointed Muley-Hascen, one of
the youngest among them, to be his successor. That weak prince, who owed
this preference, not to his own merit, but to the ascendant which his mother
had acquired over a monarch doting with age, first poisoned Mahmed, his
father, in order to prevent him from altering Tiis destmation with respect to
the succession ; and then, with the barbarous policy which prevails wherever
polygamy is permitted, and the right of succession is not precisely fixed, he
put to death all his brothers whom he could get into his power. Alraschid,
one of the eldest, was so fortunate as to escape his rage ; and, finding a retreat
among the wandering Arabs, made several attempts, by the assistance of some
of their chiefs, to recover the throne which of right belonged to him. But
these proving unsuccessful, and the Arabs, from their natural levity, being
ready to deliver him up to his merciless brother, he fled to Algiers, the only
place of refuge remaining, and implored the protection of Barbarossa ; who,
discermng at once all the advantages which might be gained by supporting
liis title, received him with every possible denionstration of friendship and
respect. Bemg ready, at that time, to set sail for Constantinople, he easily
persuaded Alraschid, whose eagerness to obtain a crown disposed him to
believe or undertake anything, to accompany him thither, promising him
efl'ectual assistance from Solyman, whom he represented to be the most gene-
rous, as well as most powerful monarch in the world. But no sooner were
they arrived at Constantinople, than the treacherous corsair, regardless of all
his promises to him, opened to the sultan a plan for conquering Tunis, and
annexing it to the Turkish empire, by making use of the name of this exiled
prince, and co-operating with the party m the kingdom which was ready to
declare in his favour- ; Solyman apmoved, with too much facility, of this per-
fidious proposal, extremely suitable to the character of its author, but dto-
getiier unworthy of a great prince. A powerfid fleet and numerous ai-my

s 2

S60 CONQUEST OF TUNIS BY BABBABOSSA. [BOOK V.

were soon assembled • at the sight of which the credulous Akaschid flattered
himself that he should soon enter his capital in triumph.

But just as this unhappy prince was going to embark, he was aiTCsted by
order of the sultan, shut up in the seraglio and was never heard of more.
Barbarossa sailed with a fleet of two hundrea and fifty vessels towards Al'rica.
After ravaging the coasts of Italy, and spreading terror through eveiy part
of that country, he appeared before Tunis ; and, landing his men, gave out
that he came to assert the right of Alraschid, whom he pretended to have
left sick aboard the admiral's galley. The fort of Goletta, which commands
tlie bay, soon fell into his hands, partly by his own address, partly by the
treachery of its commander ; and the inhabitants of Tunis, weary of Muley-
Hascen's government, took arms and declared for Alraschid with such zeal
md unanimity, as obliged the former to fly so precipitately, that he left all
his treasui-es behind him. The ^ates were immediately set open to Barba-
rossa, as the restorer of their lawful sovereign. But when Alraschid himself
did not appear, and when, instead of his name, that of Solyman alone was
heard among the acclamations of the Turkish soldiers marching into the town,
the people of Tunis began to suspect the corsair's treachery. Their sus-
picions bemg soon converted into certainty, they ran to anns with the utmost
fury, and surrounded the citadel into which Barbarossa had led his troops.
But having foreseen such a revolution, he was not unprepared for it ; he im-
mediately turned against them the artillery on the ramparts, and by one brisk
discharge dispersed the numerous but undirected assailants, and forced them
to acknowledge Solyman as their sovereign, and to submit to hhnself as his
viceroy.

His first care was to put the kingdom, of which he had thus got possession,
in a proper posture of defence. He strengthened the citadel which commands
tlie town : and fortifying the Goletta in a regular manner, at vast expense,
made it tne principal station for his fleet, and his great arsenal for miUtaiy
as well as naval stores. Being now possessed of such extensive territories,
he carried on his depredations agamst the Christian states to a greater extent
and with more destructive violence than ever. Daily complaints of the out-
rages committed by his cruisers were brought to the emperor by his subjects,
both in Spain and Italy. All Christendom seemed to expect from him, as its
greatest and most fortunate prince, that he would put an end to this new and
odious species of oppression. [1535.] At the same thne Muley-Hascen, the
exiled king of Tmiis, finding none of the Mahometan princes in Africa willing
or able to assist him in recovering his throne, applied to Charles as the only
person who could assert his rights in opposition to such a formidable usurper.
The emperor, equally desirous of delivering his dommions from the dangerous
neighbourhood of Barbarossa ; of appearmg as the protector of an unfortunate
prince ; and of acquiring the glory annexed in that age to every expedition
agamst the Mahometans, readily concluded a treaty with Muley-rlascen, and
began to prepare for invading Tunis. Having made trial of his own abilities
for war in the late campaign m Hungary, he was now become so fond of the
military character, that he deteraiined to command on this occasion in person.
The united strength of his dominions was called out upon an enterprise in
which the emperor was about to hazard his glory, and which drew the atten-
tion of all Europe. A Flemish fleet carried from the ports of the Low
Countries a body of German infantry f^ the galleys of Naples and Sicily took
on board the veteran bands of Itahans and Spaniards, which had distinguished
themselves by so many victories ever the Trench : the emperor himself em-
barked at Barcelona with the flower of the Spanish nobility, and was jomed

s^ Harsei Annalcs Brabant, i. 599.

BOOK v.] CH.LRLES BESIEGES AND TAKES THE GOLETTA,

by a considerable squadron from Portugal, under the command of the Infant
Don Lewis, the empress's brotlier ; Andrew Doria conducted his own galleys,
— the best appointed at that time in Europe, and commanded by the most
skilfid officers; the pope furnished all the assistance in his power towards
, such a pious enterprise ; and the order of Malta, the perpetual enemies of
■the intidcls, equipped a squadron, which, though small, was formidable by the
t valour of the knights who served on board it. The port of Cagliari in Sar-
[diuia was the general place of rendezvous. Doria was appointed high-admiral
|of the fleet ; the command of the land-forces under the emperor was given to
|the Marquis del Guasto.

i On the sixteenth of July, the fleet, consisting of near five hundred vessels,
Lha\ing on board above thirty thousand regular troops, set sail from Cagliari,
^and, cifter a prosperous navigation, landed within sight of Tunis. Barba-
■rossa having received early intelligence of the emperor's immense armament,
[and suspectin* its destination, prepared with ec^ual prudence and vigour for
[the defence of his new conquest. He called ni all his corsairs from their
IdiiFereut stations; he drew from Algiers what forces could be spared; he
despatched messengers to all the xVfrican princes, Moors as well as Arabs, and,
by representmg Muley-Hascen as an infamous apostate, prompted by am-
bition and revenge, not only to become the vassal of a Christian prince, but
to conspire with him to extirpate the Mahometan faith, he inflamed these
ignorant and bigoted chiefs to such a degree, that they took arms as in a
common cause. Twenty thousand horse, together with a great body of foot,
soon assembled at Tunis ; and, by a proper distribution of presents among
them from tune to time, Barbarossa kept the ardour which had brought them
together from subsiding. But as he was too well acquainted with the enemy
whom he had to oppose, to think that these light troops could resist the
heavy-armed cavalry and veteran infantry which composed the imperial anny,
his chief confidence -was in the strength of the Goletta, and in his body of
Turkish soldiers, who were armed and disciplined after the European fashion.
Six thousand of these under the command of Siuan, a renegado Jew^ the
bravest and most experienced of aU his corsairs, he threw into that fort,
which the emperor unmediately invested. As Charles had the command of
the sea, his camp was so plentifully supplied not only -with the necessaries,
but with all the luxuries of life, that Muley-Hascen, who had not been accus-
tomed to see war carried on with such order and magnificence, was filled with
admiration of the emperor's power. His troops, animated by his presence,
and considering it as meritorious to shed their blood in such a pious cause,
contended with each other for the posts of honour and danger. Three separate
attacks were concerted, and the Germans, Spaniards, and Italians, having
one of these committed to each of them, pushed them forward with the eager
courage which national emulation inspires. Sinan displayed resolution and
skill becoming the confidence which his master had put in him; the ganison
performed the hard service on which they were ordered with great fortitude.
But though he interrupted the besiegers by frequent saUies, though the Moors
and Arabs alarmed the camp with their continual incursions ; the breaches
soon became so considerable towards the land, while the fleet battered thoso
parts of the fortifications which it coidd approach with no less fury and suc-
cess, that, an assault being given on all sides at once, the place was taken
by stoi-m. Sman, with the remains of his garrison, retii'cd, after an obstinate
resistance, over a shallow part of the bay towards the citv. By the reduction
of the Goletta, the emperor became master of BarbarossVs fleet, consisting
of eighty-seven galleys and galhots, together with his arsenal and tlu-ee hun-
dred cannon, mostly brass, which were planted on the ramparts ; a prodi-
gious number in that «'-ge, and a rem,arkable proof of the strength of the

262 CIIAELES DOiPEATS BATvBAROSSA AND CAPTURES TUNIS. [bOOK V.

fort, as well as of tlie greatness of the corsair's ]oower. The emperor marched
into the Goletta through the breach, and tnrnmg to Muley-Hascen, who at-
tended him, "Here," says he, "is a gate open to you, by which you shall
return to take possession of your dominions."

Barbarossa, though he felt the fall weight of the blow which he had re-
ceived, did not, however, lose courage, or abandon the defence of Tunis.
But as the walls were of great extent, and extremely weak, as he could not
depend on the fidelity of the inhabitants, nor hope that the Moors and
Arabs would sustaia the hardships of a siege, he boldly deteraiined to ad-
vance with his army, which amounted to fifty tliousand men/*' towards the
imperial camp, and to decide the fate of his kingdom by the issue of a battle.
This resolution he communicated to his principal officers, and representing
to them the fatal consequences which might follow, if ten thousand Christian
slaves, whom he had shut up in his citadel, should attempt to mutiny during
the absence of the army, he proposed, as a necessary precaution for the
public security, to massacre them without mercy before he began his march.
They all approved warmly of his intention to fight ; but inured as they were,
in their piratical depredations, to scenes of bloodshed and cruelty, the bar-
barity of his proposal concerning the slaves filled them with horror; and
Barbarossa, rather from the dread of irritating them, than swayed by motives
of humanity, consented to spare the lives of the slaves.

By this time, the emperor had begun to advance towards Tunis ; and
though his troops sufi'ered inconceivable hardships in their march over
burning sands, destitute of water, and exposed to the intolerable heat of the
sun, they soon came up with the enemy. The Moors and Arabs, emboldened
by their vast superiority in number, unmediately rushed on to the attack with
loud shouts, but their undisciplined courage could not long stand the shock
of regular battalions ; and though Barbarossa, ^vith admirable presence of mind,
and by exposing his own person to the greatest dangers, endeavoured to rallv
them, the rout became so geiieral, that he himself was hmiied along with
them in their flight back to the city._ There he found everything_ in the
utmost confusion;^ some of the inhabitants fiying with their families and
effects; others ready to set open their gates to the conqueror; the Turkish
soldiers preparing to retreat ; and the citadel, which in such circmnstances
might have afforded him some refuge, already in the possession of the Christian
captives. These unhappy men, rendered desperate by their situation, had laid
hold on the opportunity which Barbarossa di-eaded. As soon as his army was
at some distance from the town, they gained tAvo of their keepers, by whose
assistance, knocking off their fetters, and bursting open then- prisons, they
overpowered the Tui-kish garrison, and turned the artillery of the fort against
their former masters. Barbarossa, disappointed and enraged, exclaiming
sometimes against the false compassion of his officers, and sometimes con-
demning his own imprudent compliance with their opinion, fled precipitately
to Bona.

Meanwhile Charles, satisfied with the easy and almost bloodless victory
which he had gained, and advancing slowly with the precaution necessary
in an enemy's country, did not yet know the whole extent of his own good
fortune. But at last, a messenger despatched by the slaves acquainted him
with the success of their noble effort ^r the recovery of their liberty • and at
the same time deputies arrived from the town in order to present liim the
keys of their gates, and to implore his protection from military violence.
Wliile he v/as dehberating concerning the proper measures for this purpose,
*.]ie soldiers, fearing that they should be deprived of the booty which they had

^-e Epistres des rrinces, par Ruscclii, pp. 110, &c

m

BOOK v.] HE RESTORES THE KING OF TUNIS. 263

exT)ectccI, nislied suddenly, and withont orders, into the to\ni, and began to
kill and plunder without distinction. It was then too late to restrain their
cniolty, their avarice, or licentiousness. All the outrages of which soldiers
are capable in the fuiy of a storm, all the excesses of which men can be guilty
"V^hen their passions are heightened by the contempt and hatred which dif-
ifercnee in manners and rcK^ion inspires, Avere committed. Above thirty thou-
sand of the innocent inhabitants perished on that unhappy day, and ten
[thousand were carried away ac slaves. Muley-Haseen took possession of a
;throne surroimded with camagc, abhorred by his subjects, on whom he had
■l)rought such calamities, and pitied even by those whose rashness had been
he occasion of them. The emperor lamented the fatal accident wliich had
tained the lustre of his victory; and amidst such a scene of horror there
as but one spectacle that afforded him any satisfaction. _ Ten thousand
hristian slaves, among whom were several persons of distinction, met liim
he entered the tovra. ; and, falling on their knees, thanked and blessed him
their deliverer.

At the same time that Charles accomplished his promise to the ^Joorish
Qg, of re-establishing liim in his dominions, he did not neglect what was
cessary for bridling the power of the African corsaii's, for the security of
is OAMi subjects and for the interest of the Spanish crown. In order to gain
hese ends he concluded a treaty with Muley-Hascen on the following con-
"tions: That he should hold the kingdom of Tunis in fee of the crown of
^ ain, and do homage to the emperor as his liege lord ; that all the Christian
"aves now within liis dominions, of wliatever nation, should be set at liberty
ithout ransom ; that no subject of the emperor's should for the future be
.etained in servitude ; that no Turldsh corsair should be admitted into the
lorts of his dominions ; that free trade, together with the public exercise of
.he Christian region, should be allowed to all the emperor's subjects ; that
the emperor shoiild not only retain the Goietta, but that all the other sea-
ports in the kingdom which were fortified should be put into his hands ; that
Muley-Hascen should pay annually twelve thousand crowns for the subsist-
ence of the Spanish garrison in the Goietta; that he should enter into no
alliance with any of the emperor's enemies, and should present to him every
vear, as an acknowledgment of his vassalage, six Moorish horses, and as many^
hawks.«" Having thus settled the affairs of Africa ; chastised the insolence of
the corsairs ^ secured a safe retreat for the ships of his subjects, and a proper
station to his o\ti\ ileets, on that coast from which he was most infested by
iratical depredations ; Charles embarked again for Europe, the tempestuous
eather and sickness among his troops not permitting him to pui-sue Barba-
ssa.^

By this expedition, the merit of which seems to have been estimated in
that age rather by the apparent generosity of the undertaking, the magnifi-
cence wherewith it was conducted, and the success which crowned it, than
by the importance of the consequences that attended it, the emperor attained
a greater height of glory than at anv other period of his reign. Twenty
thousand sla . es whom he freed from bondage, either by his arais or by his
treaty with Midey-Hascen,*^ each of whom he clothed and furnished with the
means of retiixning to their respective countries, spread all over Europe the

'" Dtt Mont, Corps Diplomat, ii. p. 128. Summonte, Hist, di Napoli, iv. p.
^ Joh. Etropii biarium Expedition. Tnnctance, ap. Scard. v. ii. pp. 320, >
Eistor. lib. sxxiv. pp. 153, &c. Sandov. ii. pp. 154, &c. Vertot, Hist, des Cheval. de

Joh. Etropii biarium Expedition. Tnnctance, ap. Scard. v. ii. pp. 320, &c. Jovii
)r. lib. sxxiv. pp. 153, &c. Sandov. ii. pp. 154, &c. Vertot, Hist, des Cheval "-
i'lulthe. Epistres des^ Princes, par Ruscelli, tradaites par Belleforeot, pp. 119, 120,

Ante n. Pontii Conseritini Hist. Belli adv. Barbar. ap. ^Matthjci Analect:
'' Sumrr.cnta, Hist, di Nap. vol. iv. p. 103.

rM N'EW WAR BETWEEN THE [BOOK VI.

iame of their benefactor's munificence, extolling his power and abilities with
the exaggeration flowm^ from gratitude and adniii-ation. In comparison with
him, the other monarcns of Europe made an mconsiderable figui-e. They
seemed to be solicitoiis^ about nothing but their private and particular inte-
rests ; wliilc Charles, with an elevation of sentiment which became the chief
prince in Christendom, appeared to be concerned for the honour of the
Christiflji name, and attentive to the public security and welfare.

BOOK YI.

A new War between the Emperor and Francis — Francis negotiates unsuccessfully with
the German Protestants — Takes Possession of Savoy — Geneva recovers its Liberty —
Francis makes a new Claim to the Ducliy of Milan — Chai-les prepares for War — He
challenges Francis — He recovers Part of Savoy — He enters Provence — He is defeated
by the cautious PoHcy of JNIontmorency — Operations in Picardy — Death of the Dauphia
imputed to Poison — Decree of the Parliament of Paris — Hostilities in the Low
Countries, and in Piedmont — Alliance between Francis and Solyman — Truce con^
eluded at Nice — Interview between Charles and Francis — Assassination of Alexander
de' Jledici — His Successor, Cosmo, supported by the Emperor — Renewed Coolness be-
tween Charles and Francis — The Emperor courts Henry VIIL — Negotiations for a
General Council — The Reformation in Saxony — State of the Emperor's Finances —
Complaints of his Spanish Subjects — The Cortes subverted — Insurrection at Ghent —
Francis refuses Aid to the Rebels — Charles passes through France — His Vengeance
upon Ghent — He refuses to keep his Promise to Francis concerning Milan — Loyola,
Founder of the Jesuits — Constitution and Policy of this Order — Its Power, Wealth,
and Influence — Conference between Roman and Protestant Divines at Ratisbon —
Death of King John of Hungary — Solyman seizes the Kingdom — The Emperor's Ex-
pedition against Algiers,

p.535.] Unfoetunately for the reputation of Francis I. among his con-
temporaries, his conduct, at this juncture, appeared a perfect contrast to that
of his rival, as he laid hold on the opportunity afforded him, by the emperor's
having turned his whole force agamst the common enemy of Christendom,
to revive his pretensions in Italy, and to plunge Europe into a new war.
The treaty of Cambray, as has been observed, did not remove the causes of
enmity between the two contendmg princes ; it covered up, but_ did not
extinguish, the flames of discord. Erancis in particular,_who waited with
impatience for a proper occasion of recovering the reputation as weU as the
territories which he had lost, continued to carry on his negotiations in different
courts against the emperor, taking the utmost pains to heighten the jea-
lousy which many princes entertained of his power or designs, and to inspire
the rest with the same suspicion and fear : among others, he applied to
Erancis Sforza, who, though indebted to Charles for the possession of the
duchy of Milan, had received it on such hard conditions, as rendered him
not only a vassal of the empire, but a tributary dependent upon the emiDC-
ror. The honour of having married the emperor's niece did not reconcile
him to this ignominious state of subjection, which became so intolerable even
to Sforza, tliough a weak and poor-spirited ;prince, that he listened with
eagerness to the first proposals Erancis made ot rescuing hhn from the yoke.
These proposals vrere conveyed to him by Maraviglia, or Merveille, as he is
called by the Erench historians, a Milanese gentleman residing at Paris ; and

BOOK VI.] EMPEROR A^•D FRA>'CIS. 265

soon after, in order to carry on the negotiation with greater advanf ace, Mer-
veille was sent to Milan, on pretence of visiting his relations, but with secret
credentials from Francis as his envoy. In this character he was received
by Sforza. But, notwithstandm* his care to keep that circumstance con-
cealed, Charles, suspecting or having received information of it, remon-
strated and tlireatened in such a high tone, that the duke and his ministers,
equally intimidated, gave the world immediately a most infamous proof of
their seiTile fear of otl'ending the emperor. As Merveille had neither the
prudence nor the temper which the function wherein he was employed re-
quired, they arttidly decoyed hhn into a quarrel, in wliich he happened to
kill his antagonist, one of the duke's domestics, and having instantly seized
liim, they ordered liim to be tried for that crime, and to be btheaded.
Fi-ancis, no less astonished at this violation of a character held sacred imong
the most uncivilized nations, than enraged at the insult offered to the dignity
of his crown, threatened Sforza with the effects of his indignation, and com-
plained to the emperor, whom he considered as the real author of that un-
exampled outrage. But receiving no satisfaction from either, he appealed
to all the princes of Europe, and thought hroiself now entitled to take
vengeance for an injury, which it would have been indecent and pusilla-
nimous to let pass with impimity.

Being thus furnished with a pretext for beginning a war, on which he
had already resolved, he multiplied his efforts in order to draw in other princes
to take part in the quarrel. But all his measures for this purpose v.ere dis-
coucertea by unforeseen events. After haying sacrificed the honour of the
royal family of Prance by the maniage of his son with Catharine of Medici,
in order to gain Clement, the death of that pontiff had deprived him of ail
the advantages which he expected to derive from his friendship. Paul, his
successor, tliough attached by inclination to the imperial interest, seemed
determined to maintain the neutrality suitable to his character as the common
father of the contending princes. The king of England, occupied with
domestic cares and projects, dechned, for once, engaging in the affairs of
the continent, and refused to assist Praneis, unless he would imitate liis
example, in throwing off the papal supremacv. These disappointments led
him to solicit, with greater earnestness, the aid of the protestant princes asso-
ciated by the league of Smalkalde. That he might the more easily acquire
then confidence, he endeavoured to accommodate himself to their predo-
minant passion, zeal for their religious tenets. He affected a wouderful mo-
deration with regard to the points in dispute; he permitted BeUay, his
envoy in Germany, to explain liis sentiments couceming some of the' most
, important articles, in terms not far different from those used by the pro-
[testants;^ he even coiide-scended to invite Melanethon, whose gentle mamiers
and pacific spirit distmguished him among the refomiers, to visit Paris, that
by his assistance he might concert the most proper measures for reconciling
the contending sects which so unhappily divided the church.- These con-
cessions must be considered rather as arts of policy than the result or con-
viction ; for, whatever impression the new opinions in religion had made on
his sisters, the queen of IS'avarre and duchess of Perrara, the gaiety of
Prancis's own temper, and his love of pleasure, allowed him little leisure to
examine theological controversies.

But soon after he lost all the fruits of this disingenuous artifice by a step
very inconsistent with his declarations to the German princes. This step,
however, the prejudices of the age, and the religions sentiments of his own

» Freheri Script. Ker. German, iii. 354, &c. Sleid. Hist. 178, 1S3. Seckcnd. lib. iii. ]03.
2 Camerarii Vita Fh. Melauctbonis, 12''. Hag. 1655, p. 12.

266 TEANCIS AND THE GEEMAN PROTESTANTS. [BOOK VI.

subjects, rendered it necessary for him to take. His close union with the king
of England, an excommunicated heretic ; his frequent negotiations with the
German protestants ; but, above all, liis giving public auaience to an envoy
from Sultan Solyman, had. excited violent suspicions concerning the sincerity
of his attachment to religion. To have attacked the emperor, who, on all
occasions, made high pretensions to zeal in defence of tlic catholic faitli, and
at the very juncture wlien he was preparing for his expedition against Bar-
barossa, which was then considered as a pious enterprise, could not have
failed to confirm such unfavourable sentiments with regard to Erancis, and
called on him to vindicate himself by some extraordinary demonstration of
his reverence for the established doctrines of the church. The indiscreet zeal
of some of his subjects, wlio had imbibed tlie protestant opinions, furnished
him with such an occasion as he desired. They had affixed to the gates of the
Louvre, and other puljHc places, papers containing indecent reflections on the
doctrines and rites of the popish church. Six of the persons concerned in this
rash action were discovered and seized. The king, in order to avert the judg-
ments which it was supposed their blasphemies might draw dovra. upon the
nation, appointed a solemn procession. The holy sacrament was carried
throughthe city in great pomp ; Eraneis walked uncovered before it, bearing
a torch in his hand: the princes of the blood supported fhe canopy over it;
the nobles marched in order behind. In the presence of this numerous as-
sembly, the king, accustomed to express himself _ on eveiy subject in strong
and animated language, declared that if one of his hands were infected with
heresy, he would cut it off with the other, and would not spare even his own
children, if found guilty of that crime. As a dreadful proof of his being in
earnest, the six unhappy persons were publicly burnt before the procession
was finished, with circumstances of the most shocking barbarity attending
their execution.^

The princes of the league of Smalkalde, filled with resentment and indig-
nation at the cruelty with which their brethren were treated, could not
conceive Eraneis to be sincere, when he offered to protect in Germany those
very tenets, wliich he persecuted with such rigour in his own dominions ; so
that all Bellay's art and eloquence in vindicating his master, or apologisuig
for his conduct, made but little impression upon them. They considered, like-
wise, that the emperor, who hitherto had never employed violence against the
doctrines of the reformers, nor even given them much molestation in their
progress, was now bound by the agreement at llatisbon notto disturb such as
had embraced the nev/ opinions ; and the protestants wisely regarded this
as a more certain and iinmediate security, tlian the precarious and distant
hopes with wliich Eraneis endeavoured to allure them. Besides, the maimer
in v/hich he had behaved to his allies si, the siege of Cambray, was too recent
to be forgotten, and did not encourage others to rely much on his friendship
or generosity. Upon all these accounts, the protestant princes refused to
assist the Erench king in any hostile attempt against the emperor. The
elector of Saxony, tiie most zealous among them, in order to_ avoid gi-ving any
umbrage to Charles, would not permit Melancthon to visit the court of
Erance, although that reformer, flattered, perhaps, by the invitation of so
great a monarch, or hoping that his presence there miglit be of signal ad-
vantage to the protestant cause, discovered a strong iaclmation to undertake
the journey.''

But though none of the many princes who envied or dreaded the power of
Charles, would second Erancis's etForts in order to reduce and circumscribe it,

3 Belcarii Comment. Ker. Gallic. 646. Sleid. Hist. 175, &c.
* Ciimeriirii Vita Melan. li * &c., 41S. SockenJ. lib. iii. 107.

BOOKVI.] OCCUPATION OF SAVOY. 267

lie, nevertheless, commanded his army to advance towards the frontiers of
Italy. As his sole pretext for taking anns was that he might chastise the
(liikc of Milan for his insolent and cruel breach of the law of nations, it might
ive been expected that the whole weight of liis vengeance was to have fallen
[ his territories. But, on a sudden, and at their very commencement, opera-
)ns of war took another direction. Charles, duke of Savoy, one of tne least
Live and able princes of the line from which he descended, had married
;atrix of Portugal, the sister of the empress. By her great talents, she
)n acquired an absolute ascendant over her husband; and, proud of her
inity to the emperor, or allured by the magnificent promises with which he
iltered her ambition, she formed an union between the dulce and the im-
srial court., extremely inconsistent with that neutrality, which wise policy,
I well as the situation of his dominions, had liitherto induced him to observe
all the quarrels between the contending monarclis. Francis was abun-
itly sensible of the distress to wliich he might he exposed, if, when he
itered Italy, he should leave beliind him the territories of a prince, devoted
obsequiously to the emperor, that he had sent his eldest son to be
Kicated in the court of Spam, as a ^tucX of hostage for his fidelity. Clement
^e Seventh, who had represented this danger in a strong light during his ia-
view with Francis at Marseilles, suggested to him, at the same time, the
^oper method of guarding against it, having advised him to begin his opera-
tions against the Milanese, by taking possession of Savoy and Piedmont, as
the only certain way of securing a communication with liis ovm dominions.
Francis, highly irritated witli the duke on many accounts, particularly for
having suppKed the Constable Bourbon with the money that enabled him to
levv the body of troops wliich ruined the French army in the fatal battle of
Pavia, was not unwiUiug to let him now feel both how deeply he resented,
and how severely he could pmiish, these injuries. _Nor did lie want several
pretexts which gave some colour of equity to the violence that he intended.
I'he tenitories of France and Savoy Ijing contiguous to each other, and
iutermingled in many places, various disputes, unavoidable in such a situa-
tion, subsisted between the two sovereigns concerning the limits of their
respective property ; and besides, Francis, in right of his mother, Louise of
Savoy, had large claims upon the didce her brother, for her share in their
father's succession. Being unwilling, however, to begin hostilities without
some cause of quarrel more specious than these pretensions, many of which
were obsolete, and others dubious, he demanded permission to march through
Piedmont in his way to the Milanese, hoping that the duke, from an excess
of attachment to the imperial interest, might lefuse this request, and thus
give a greater appearance of justice to all his operations against him. But,
if we may believe the historians of Savoy, who appear to be better infonned
with regard to this particular than those of France, the duke readily, and
with a good grace, granted what it was not in his power to deny, promising
free passage to the French troops as was desired ; so that Francis, as the only
method now left of justifying the measures which he determined to take, was
obliged to insist for full satisfaction with regard to everything that either
the crown of France or his mother Louise could demancl of the house of
Savoy,^ Such an evasive answer, as might have been expected, being made
to this requisition, the French army, luidcr the Admiral Briou, jjoured at
once into the duke's territories at ditt'erent places. The counties of Bressey
and Bugey, united at that time to Savoy, were overmn in a moment. !Most
cf tlie towns in the duchy of Savoy opened their gates at the approach of the
ciicmy ; a few which attempted to moke resistaaice were easily taken ; and

5 Histoire Gdndalogique ch Sotot?, jar Guichcnoz, 2 ten. fol. Lyon. 1G60 i. G39, &.c.

268 GENEVA r.ECO^'ErvS ITS LIEEHTY. [BOOK "Vl.

beff^rc the end of tlie campaign, tlie duke saw himself stripped of all his do-
minions but the province of Piedmont, in which there were not many places
ia a condition to be defended.

To complete the duke's misfortunes, the city of Geneva, the sovereignty
of which he claimed, and in some degree possessed, threw off his yoke, and
ivs revolt drew abng with it the loss of the adjacent territories. Geneva was,
at that time, an imperial city ; and though under the direct dommion of its
own bishops, and the remote sovereignty of the dukes of Savoy, the form of
its internal constitution was purely republican, being governed bv sindics and
a council chosen by the citizens. From these distinct and often clashing juris-
dictions, two opposite parties took their rise, and had lon;^ subsisted in the
state: the one, composed of the advocates for the privileges of the com-
munity, assumed the name of eignotz, or confederates in defence of liberty ;
and branded the other, which supported the episcopal or ducal prerogatives,
with the name of mamehikes, or slaves. [1532.] At length, the protestant
opinions beginning to spread among the citizens, inspired such as embraced
them with that bold enterprising spirit which always accompanied or was
naturally produced by them in their first operations. As both the duke and
bishop were from interest, from prejudice, and from political considerations,
violent enemies of the reformation, all the new converts joined with warmth
the party of the eignotz ; and zeal for religion, mingHng with the love of
liberty, added strength to that generous passion. The rage and animosity of
two factions, shut_ up within the same walls, occasioned frequent insurrec-
tions, which, terminating mostly to the advantage of the friends of liberty,
they daily became more powerfiil.

The duke and bishop, forgetting their ancient oontests about jurisdiction,
had united against their common enemies, and each attacked them with liis
proper weapons. The bishop excommunicated the people of Geneva, as guilty
of a double crime ; of impiety, m apostatizing from the estabKshed religion ;
and of sacrilege, in invading the rights of his see. The duke attacked them
as rebels against their lawful prince, and attempted to render himself master
of the city, first by surprise, and then by open force. [1531.] The citizens,
despising the thunder of the bishop's censures, boldly asserted their mde-
pendence against the dulce ; and partly by their own valom*, partly by the
powerful assistance which they received from the canton of Berne, together
with some small supplies both of men and money, secretly furnished by the
king of France, thev defeated all his attempts. Not satisfied with ha\dng
repulsed him, or with remaining always upon the defensive themselves, they
now took advantage of the duke's inability to resist them, while overwhelmed
by the armies of France, and seized several castles and places of strength,
which he possessed in the neighbourhood of Geneva; thus delivering the
city from those odious monuments of its former subjection, and rendering'
the public liberty more seciu-e for the future. At the same tune the canton
of Berne invaded and conquered the Pays de Yaud, to which it had some pre-
tensions. The canton of Friburgh, though zealously attached to the cathohc
religion, and having no subject of contest with the duke, laid hold on part
of the spoils of that unfortunate prince. A great portion of these conquests
or usurpations being still retained by the two cantons, add considerably to
their power, and have become the most valuable part of their territories.
Geneva, notwithstanding many schemes and enterprises of the dukes of Savoy
to re-establish their dominion over it, still keeps possession of its indepen-
dence ; and, in consequence of that blessing, has attained a degree of con-
sideration, wealth, and elegance, which it could not otherwise have reached.^

° Hist, ce la Ville de Geneve, par Spon, 12°. Utr. IGSo, p. 99. Hist, de In Re'forma-

BOOK VI.] nuXCIS'S NEW CL.\IM TO MILAN. 269

Amidst siicli a succession of disastrous events, the duke of Savoy had no
other resource but the emperor's protection, wliich, upon his return from
Tunis, he dcmandedwiththe most earnest importunity; and as his misfortunes
were occasioned chiefly by his attachment to tlie imperial interest, he had a
just title to immediate assistance. Charles, however, was not in a condition
to support him with that vigour and despatch which the exigency of his alfairs
called for. Most of the troops einployed in the African expedition havmgr
been raised for that seiTiee alone, were disbanded as soon as it was finished ;
the veteran forces under Antonio de Ley\'a were hardly sufficient for the de-
fence of the Milanese ; and the emperor's treasury was entii*ely drained by his
extraordinary efforts against the infidels.

But the death of Francis Sforza, occasioned, according to some historians,
by the terror of a French invasion, which had twice been fatal to his
family, afforded the emperor full leisure to prepare for action. By this unex-
pected event, the nature of the war, and the causes of discord, were totally
changed. Francis's first pretext for taking anns, in order to chastise Sforza
for the insult offered to the dignity of his crown, was at once cut off; but as
that prince died without issue, all Francis's rights to the duchy of Milan, which
he had yielded only to Sforza and his posterity, returned back to him in full
force. As the recovery of the Milanese was the favourite object of that
monarch, he instantly renewed his claim to it ; and if he had supported his
pretensions by ordering the powerful ai-my quartered in Savoy to advance
without losmg a moment towards Milan, he could hardly have failed to
secure the important point of possession. But Francis, who b»jcame less
enterprising as he advanced in years, and who was overawed at some times
into an excess of caution by the remembrance of his past misfortunes, en-
deavoured to establish his rights by negotiation, not by arms ; and from a
timid moderation, fatal in all great affairs, neglected to improve the favour-
able opportunity wdiich presented itself. Charles was more decisive in his
operations, and,' in quality of sovereign, took possession of the duchy, as a
vacant fief of the empire. While Francis endeavoured to explam and assert
his title to it, by arguments and memorials, or employed various arts in order
to reconcile the Italian powei-s to the thoughts of his regaining footing in
Italy, his rival was silently taking effectual steps to prevent it. The em-
peror, however, was very careful not to discover too early an intention of
this kind ; but seeming to admit the equity of Francis's claim, he appeared
solicitous only about giving him possession in such a manner as might not
distui'b the peace of Europe, or overturn the balance of power in Italy, which
the politicians of that country were so desirous of preserving. By this
artifice he deceived Francis, and gained so much confidence with the rest of
Europe, that, almost without incurrmg any suspicion, he involved the affair
in new difficulties, and protracted the negotiations at pleasure. Sometimes
he proposed to grant the investitui-e of Milan to the duke of Orleans,
lYancis's second son; sometimes to the duke of Angouleme, his third son:
as the views and inclinations of the French court varied, he transfeiTed his
choice alternately from the one to the other, with such profound and A\'ell-con-
ducted dissimulation, that neither Francis nor liis ministers seem to have pene-
trated his real intention ; and all military operations were entirely suspended,
as if nothing had remained but to enter quietly into possession of what they
demanded.

[I53G.] During the interval of leisure gained in this maimer, Charles,
on his return from Tunis, assembled the states both of Sicily and Kaples

i

de Suisse, par Roucbat, Geii. 1728, torn. iv. p 294, &c., torn. v. p. 216, &c. Meiii
Bellay, 181

270 CHARLES E^^TEKS KOMS. [bOOK YI.

and as tliey thought theraselve£: greatly honoured by the presence of their
sovereign, and were no less pleased with the apparent disinterestedness of iiis
expedition into Africa, than dazzled by the success which had attended his
arms, he prevailed on them to vote him such liberal subsidies as were seldom
granted in that age. This enabled hmi to recruit his veteran troops, to
levy a body of Germans, and to take every other proper precaution for exe-
cuting or supportmg the measures on vmich he had determined. J3ellay,
the Erench envoy in Germany, having discovered the intention of raising
troops in that countrj^, notwithstanding all the pretexts employed in order
to conceal it, first alarmed his master with this evident proof of the empe-
ror's insincerity.'^ But Erancis was so possessed at that time with the rage of
negotiation, in all the artifices and refinements of which his rival far sur-
passed _him,_ that, instead of begmuing his military operations, and pushing
them with vigour, or seizing the Milanese before the imperial army was as-
sembled, he satisfied lumself with making new offers to the emperor, in order
to procure the investiture by his voluntary deed. His offers were, indeed, so
liberal and advantageous, that if ever Charles had intended to grant his
demand, he could not have rejected them with decency. He dexterously
eluded them by declaring, that, until he consulted the pope in person, he
could not take his final resolution with regard to a point which so nearly
concerned the peace of Italy. By this evasion he gained some farther time
for ripening the schemes which he had in view.

The emperor at last advanced towards Kome, and made his public entry into
that city with extraordinary pomp ; but it being found necessary to remove
the ruins of an old temple of peace in order to widen one of the streets
through which the cavalcade had to pass, all the historians take notice of
this trivial circumstance, and they are fond to interpret it as an omen of the
bloody war that followed. Charles, it is certain, had by tifis time banished
all thoughts of peace ; and at last threw off' the mask, with which he had so
long covered his designs from the -^urt of France, by a declaration of his
sentiments no less singular than explicit. _ The Frencn ambassadors having
in their master's name demanded a definitive reply to his propositions con-
cerning the investiture of Milan, Charles promised to give it next day in
presence of the pope and cardinals assembled in full consistory. These being
accordingly met, and all the foreign ambassadors invited to attend, the em-
peror stood up, and addressing himself to the pope, _ expatiated for some
time on the sincerity of his own wishes for the peace of Christendom, as well
as his abhorrence of war, the miseries of which he enumerated at great length,
with studied and elaborate oratory ; he complained that all his endeavours to
preserve the tranquillity of Europe had hitherto been defeated by the restless
and unjust ambition of the French kiii^ ; that even during his minority, he
had proofs of the unfriendly and liostue intentions of that monarch ; that
afterwards, he had openly attempted to }vi-est from him the imperial crown
which belonged to him by a title no less just than natural ; that lie had next
invaded his kingdom of Navarre ; that, not satisfied with this, he had attacked
his territories as well as those of his allies, both in Italy and the Low Coun-
tries ; that when the valour of the imperial troops, rendered irresistible by the
protection of the Almighty, had checked his progress, ruined his ai*mies, and
seized his ]3erson, he continued to pursue by deceit what he had undertaken
with injustice ; that he had violated every article in the treaty of Madrid, to
which he owed his liberty, and as soon as he returned to his dominions took
measm-es for rekindling the war which that pacification had happily exiiu-
guished ; that when new misfortunes compelled him to sue again for peace

' Mem. de Eellay, 192.

I

BOOK M.] HE CHALLENGES EllAXClS ilx .. v-u-^cibTOIlY AT EOilE. 27i

at Cambray, lie concluded and observed it with equal insincerity ; that sooa
after lie had formed dangerous coimexions with the heretical princes in Ger-
many, and incited them to disturb the tramiuillity of the empire ; that now
he had di-iven the duke of Savoy a prince man-ied to a sister of the empress,
and joined in close alliance with Spain, out of the greater part of his tcixi-
tories ; and after injuries so often rci)cated, and amidst so many sources of
discord, all hope of amity or concord became desperate ; and though he Iiim-
self was still willing to grant the investiture of Lilian to one of the prmces of
France, there was little probability of that event taking place, as Erancis, ou
the one hand, would not consent to what was necessary for securing the tran-
quillity of Europe, nor, on the other, could he thmk it reasonable or safe to
give a rival the unconditional possession of all that he demanded. "Let us
not, however," added he, "continue wantonly to shed the blood of our inno-
cent subjects ; let us decide the quaiTcl man to man, with what arms he pleases
to choose, in our shirts, on an island, a bridge, or aboard a galley moored in
a river ; let the duchy of Burgundy be put in deposit on his part', and that of
Milan on mine ; these shall be the prize of the conqueror ; and after that, let
the united forces of Germany, Spain, and France, be employed to humble the
power of the Turk, and to extii-pate heresy out of Christendom. But if he,
by deelinmg this method of terminating our diU'erences, renders wai- inevitable,
nothing shall divert me from prosecutmg it to such extremity, as shall reduce
one of us to be the poorest gentleman in his own dominions. Nor do I fear
that it will be on me this misfortune shall fall : I enter upon action vdth the
fairest prospect of success; the justice of my cause, the union of my sub-
jects, the number and valour of my troops, the experience and fidelity of my
generals, all combine to ensui-e it. Of all these advantages the king of France
IS destitute ; and were my resources no more certain, aud my hopes of victory
no better founded than his, I would instantly throw myself at his feet, and
with folded hands, and a rope about my neck, implore his mercy."®

This long harangue the emperor delivered with an elevated voice, a haughty
tone, and the greatest vehemence of expression and gesture. The French
ambassadors, who did not fully comprehend lus meaning, as he spake in the
Spanish tongue, were totally disconcerted, and at a loss how they should
answer such an unexpected invective ; when one of the*H began to vindicate
his master's conduct, Charles interposed abruptly, and would not permit
him to proceed. The pope, without entermg into any particular detail, satis-
fied himself with a short but pathetic recommendation of peace, together wdth
an offer of employing his sincere endeavours in order to procure that blessing
to Christendom ; and the assembly broke up in the greatest astonishment at
he extraordinary scene which had been exhibited. In no part of his conduct,
lideed, did. Charles ever deviate so widely from liis general character. In-
■'.ead of that prudent recollection, that composed and regular deportment so
'rictly attentive to deconmi, and so admirawy adapted to conceal liis own
>iussions, for which he was at all other times conspicuous, he appears on this
occasion before one of the most august assemblies in Europe, boasting of his
own power and exploits with insolence ; inveighing against his enemy with
iiidecency ; and challenging him to combat with ostentatious valour, more
becoming a champion in romance, than the first monarch in Christendom.
But the well-kno^ra and powerful operation of continued prosperity, as well
as of exaggerated praise, even upon the firmest minds, sulficientlv' accounts
lor this seeming inconsistency. After having compelled Solyman'to retreat,
and havmg stripped Bai'barossa of a kingdom, Charles began to consider his
" ms as invincible. He had been entertained, ever since his return from

ilciu. de Bcllay, 199. Sander. Hletor. del Emper. ii, 226.

272 CHARLES i:r»'A]DEs rit-ANCE. [book VI.

Africa, with repeated scenes of triumphs aud public rejoicings ; the orators
mid poets of Italy, the niost elegant at that time in Europe, had exhausted
their genius m panegyric on his conduct and merit, to which tlie astrologers
added magnificent promises of a more splendid fortune still in store. In-
toxicated with all thc_se, he forgot his usual reseiTC and moderation, and was
unable to restrain this extravagant sally of vanity, which became the more
remarka.ble, by being both so uncommon and so public.

lie himself seems to have been immediatelv sensible of the impropriety of
his behaviour, and when the Erench ambassadors demanded next day a more
clear explanation of what he had said concerning the combat, he told them
that they were not to consider his proposal as a formal challenge to their
master, but as an exj^edient for preventing bloodshed ; he endeavoured to
soften several expressions in his discourse, and spoke in terms fuU of respect
towards Francis. But though this slight apology was far from being suffi-
cient to remove the offence which had been given, Erancis, by an unaccount-
able infatuation, continued to negotiate, as if it had still been possible to
bring their differences to a period by an amicable composition. Charles,
finding him so eager to run into the snare, favoured the deception, and, by
■seeming to listen to his proposals, gained time to prepare for the execution of
his own designs.'^

At last, the imperial army assembled on the frontiers of the Milanese,
to the amount of forty thousand foot and ten thousand horse ; while that of
Erance encamped near YerceUi in Piedmont, being greatly inferior in number,
and weakened by the departure of a body of Swiss, whom Charles artfully
persuaded the popish cantons to recal, that they might not serve agahist
the duke of Savoy, their ancient ally. The Erench general, not daring to
risk a battle, retired as soon as the imperialists advanced. The emperor put
himself at the head of his forces, whicli the Marquis del Guasto, the duke of
Alva, and Eerdinand de Gonzago, conmianded under him, though the supreme
direction of the whole was committed to Antonio de_ Jjeyva., whose abilities
and experience justly entitled him to that distinction. Charles soon dis-
covered his intention not to confine his operations to the recovery of Pied-
mont and Savoy, but to push forward and invade the southern provinces of
Erance. This scheme he had long meditated, and had long been taking mea-
sures for executing it with such vigour as might ensure success. He had
remitted large sums to his sister, the governess of the Low Countries, and to
his brother, the king of the Romans, instructing them to levy all the forces
in their power, in order to form two separate bodies, the one to enter Erance
on the side of Picardy, the other on the side of Champagne ; while he_, with
the main army, fell upon the opposite frontier of the kingdom. Trusting to
these vast preparations, he thought it impossible that Erancis could resist so
many unexpected attacks, on such different quarters ; and began his enter-
prise with such confidence of its happy issue, that he desired Paul Jovius,
the historian, to make a large provision of paper sufficient to record the
victories which he was going to obtain.

His ministers and generals, instead of entertaining the same sanguine hopes,
represented to him, in the strongest terms, the danger of leadmg_ his troops so
far from liis ovm. territories, to such a dista^nce from his magazines, and into
provinces which did not yield sufficient subsistence for their own inhabitants.
They entreated him to consider the inexhaustible i-esources of Erance ia main-
taining a defensive war, and the active zeal vdili wliich a gallant nobility
would serve a prince whom they loved, in repelling the enemies of their country ;
they recalled to his remembrance the fatal miscarriage of Bourbon and Pes-

9 M^ra. de Bellay, 205, &c.

BOOK VI.] FEAXCIS'S PLAN OF DEFENCE. Ws

ira, M-hcn they ventured upon the same enterprise lUider circumstances
which seemed as certain to promise success ; the Mar(}uis del Guasto, in
particular, fell on his kuees and conjured him to abandon the undertaking as
desperate. But many circumstances combined in leading Charles to disregard
all their remonstrances. He could seldom be brought, on any occasion, to
depart from a resolution which he had once taken ; he was too apt to under-
rate and despise the talents of his rival, the king of France, because thev
difiered so widely from his own ; he was blinded by the presumption whieii
accompanies prosperity; and relied, perhaps, in some degree, on the pro-
phecies which predicted the increase of his own grandeur. Pie not only ad-
hered obstinately to his own plan, but determined to advance towards France
without waiting for the reduction of any part of Piedmont, except such towns
as were absolutely necessary for preservmg his communication with the Mi-
lanese.

The Marquis de Saluees, to whom Francis had entrusted the command
of a small body of troops left for the defence of Piedmont, rendered this more
easy than Cliarles had a.nj reason to expect. That nobleman, educated in
the court of France, distinguished by continual marks of the kind's favour,
and honoured so lately with a charge of such importance, suddenly, and
without any provocation or pretext of disgust, revolted from his benefactor.^
His motives to this treacherous action were as childish as the deed itself
was base. Being strongly possessed with a superstitious faith in divination
and astrology, he believed with fuH assurance, that the fatal period of the
French nation was at hand ; that on its ruins the emperor would establish an
universal monarchy ; that therefore he ought to follow the dictates of pru-
dence, in attacliing' himself to his rising' fortune, and could incur no blame for
deserting a prince whom heaven had devoted to destruction.'*' His treason
became still more odious, by his employing that very authority with which
Francis had invested him, in order to open the kingdom to Ms enemies. A'\Tiat-
ever measures were proposed or undertaken by the oifieers under his com-
mand for the defence of their conquests, he rejected or defeated. Whatever
properly belonged to himself, as commander-in-cliief, to provide or perform
tor that purpose, he totcdly neglected. In this manner he rendered towns
even of the greatest consequence untenable, by leaving them destitute either
of provisions, or ammunition, or artillery, or a sufficient garrison ; and the im-
periahsts must have reduced Piedmont in as short a time as was necessary to
march through it, if Montpezat, the governor of Fossano, had not, bv an ex-
traordinary effort of courasre and military conduct, detained them almost a
month before that inconsiderable place.

_ By this meritorious and seasonable service, he gained his master sufficient
time for assembling his forces, and for concerting a system of defence against
a danger which he now saw to be inevitable. Francis fixed upon the only
proper and effectual plan for defeating the invasion of a powerful enemy; and
his prudence in choosing this plan, as well as his perseverance in executing
it, deserve the greater praise, as it was equally contrary to his own natural
temper and to the genius of the French nation. He determined to remain
altogether upon the defensive; never to hazard a battle, or even a great
skirmish, without certainty of success; to fortify his camps in a regidar
manner ; to throw garrisons only into towns of great strength ; to deprive
the enemy of subsistence by laym^ waste the country before them ; and to
save the whole kingdom, by sacrificing one of its provinces. The execu-

In of this plan he committed entirelv to the Marecnal Montmorency, v>ho
B the author of it ; a man wonderi'ully fitted by nature for such a
10 -Mem. de Bellay, 222 a • 246 b.

27 4i CHAELES ENTERS PEOYENCE. [EOOE Vi.

trust. Haughty, severe, confident in liis own abilities, and despising iliose
of other men; incapable of being diverted from any resolution by remon-
strances or entreaties, and, in prosecuting any scheme, regardless alike of
love or of pity.

Montmorency made choice of a strong camp under the walls of Avignon,
at the confluence of the Rhone and the Durance, one of which plentifully
supplied his troops with all necessaries from the inland provinces, and the
other covered his camp on that side where it was most probable the enemy
would approach, lie laboured with unwearied industry to render the forti-
fications of this camp impregnable, and assembled there a considerable
army, though greatly mferior to that of the enemy ; while the Idng with
another body of troops encamped at Valence, higher up the lllione. Mar-
seilles and Aries were the only. towns he thought it necessary to defend;
the termer, in order to retain the command of the sea ; the latter, as the
barrier of the province of Languedoc ; and each of these he furnished witli
numerous gamsons of liis best troops, commanded by ofiicers on whose
fidelity and valour he could rely. The inhabitants of the other towns, as vrell
as of the open country, were compelled to abandon their houses,_ and were
conducted to the mountains, to the camp at Avignon, or to the iuland pro-
vmces. The fortifications of such places as might have afforded shelter or
defence to the enemy were thrown down. Corn, forage, and provisions of
every kind, were carried away or destroyed ; all the mills and_ ovens were
ruined, and the wells filled up or rendered useless. The devastation extended
from the Alps to Marseines,_ and from the sea to the confines of Dauphine;
nor does history afford any instance among civilized nations, in which this
cruel expedient for the public safetywas employed with the same rigour.

At length, the emperor arrived with the van of his army on the frontiers
of Provence, and was still so possessed with confidence of success, that during
a few days, when he was obliged to halt until the rest of his troops came up,
he began to divide his future conquests amon^ his officers ; and as a new in-
citement to serve him with zeal, gave them liberal promises of offices, lands,
and liouours in Prance." The face of desolation, however, which presented
itself to him when he entered the country, began to damp his hopes ; and
convinced him that a monarch who, in order to distress^ an enemy, had volun-
tarily rumed one of his richest provinces, would defend the rest with des-
perate obstinacy. Nor was it long before he became sensible that Francis's
plan of defence was as prudent as it appeai-ed to be extraordinary. His
fleet, on which Charles chiefly depended for subsistence, was prevented for
some time by contrary winds, and other accidents to which naval operations
are subject, 'from approaching the Trench coast ; even after its arrival, it
afforded at best a precarious and scanty supply to such a numerous body of
troops ;^^ nothing was to be found in the country itself for their support ; nor
could they draw any considerable aid from the dominions of the duke of
Savoy, exhausted already by maiutaining two great armies. The emperor
was no less embarrassed how to employ, than how to subsist his forces ; for
though he was now hi possession of almost an entire provmce, he could not
be said to have the command of it, while he held only defenceless towns ; and
wliile the Erench, besides their camp at Avignon, contmued masters of
Marseilles and Aries. At first he thought of attacking the camp, and of
terminating the war by one decisive blow ; but skilful officers who were ap-
pointed to view it, declared the attempt to be utterly impracticable. He
then gave orders to invest Marseilles and Ailes, hoping that the French
would quit their advantageous post in order to relieve them ; but Montmc

11 M^m. de Bellay, 266 a. " Sandov. ii. 231.

COOK \1.] CHABIES'S PKECiriTATE RETREAT. ^75

la£

f

rency, ailheriug firinlv to his plan, remained immovable at Avi^on, and tlie
imperialists met with such a warm reception from the garrisons of both
towns, that they relinquished their enteii)riscs with loss and disgrace. As a
last eil'ort, the emperor advanced once more towards Avignon, though with

army harassed by the pcii)etual incui-sions of small parties of the French
ght t roops, weakened by diseases, and dispirited by disasters, which seemed
' e more intolerable because they were imexpected.

During these operations, Montmorency found himself exposed to greater

nger from his o\vu troops than from the enemy ; and their inconsiderate
valour went near to have precipitated the kingdom into those calamities which
lie, with such industry and caution, had endeavoured to avoid. Unaccus-
tomed to behold an enemy ravaging their country almost without control;
impatient of such long inaction; unacquainted with the slow and remote, but
certain eflects of Montmorency's system^ of defence; the French wished
lor a battle with no less ardour than the imperialists. They considered the
conduct of their geneml as a disgrace to their country. His caution they
imputed to timidity ; his circumspection to want of spirit ; and the constancy
with which he pursued his plan, to obstinacy or pride. These reflections,
whispered at first among the soldiers and subalterns, were adopted, by de-
grees, by officers of higher rank ; and as many of tlicin envied Montmorency's
favour with the king, and more vrere dissatisfied with liis_ harsh, disgusting
iiianner, the discontent soon became great in his camp, wliich was filled with
licncral murmurings, and ahnost open complaints against liis measures. Mont-
morency, on whom the sentunents of his own troops made as little impres-
sion as the insults of the enemy, adhered steadUy to his system ; though, in
order to reconcile the aiiny to liis maxims, no less contrary to the genius of
the nation than to the ideas of war among undisciplined troops, he assumed an
unusual alFabiLity in his deportment, and often explained, Avith great condescen-
sion, the motives of his conduct, the advantages which had already resulted
from it, and the certain success Avith which it would be attended. At last,
Francis joined his army at Avignon, which having received several rein-
forcements, he now considered as of strength sufiicient to face the enemy.
As he had put no small constraint upon himself, in consenting that his
troops should remain so long upon the defensive, it can hardly be doubted
but that his fondness for what Avas daring and splendid, added to the im-
patience both of officers and soldiers, would at last have overruled Montmo-
rency's salutary caation.'^

Happily the 'retreat of the enemy delivered the kingdom from the danger
which any rash resolution might have occasioned. Tlie emperor, after spend-
ing two inglorious months in Provence, without having performed anything
suitable to his vast preparations, or that could justify the confidence with
which he had boasted of liis own power, found that, besides Antonio de Leyva,
and other officei-s of distinction, he had lost one half of his troops by diseases,
or by famine ; and that the rest were in no condition to stiniggle any longer
\n\\i calamities, by which so many of their companions had perished. IS^eces-
sity, therefore, extorted from him orders to retire; and though he was some
time in motion before the French suspected liis intention, a bodv of light
troops, assisted by crowds of peasants, eager to be revenged on those Avho
liad brought such desolation on their country, hung upon the rear of the im-
perialists, and by seizing every favourable opportuuitv of attacking them,
threw 1 hem often into confusion. The road by which they fled, for they pur-
sued tlieir march with such disorder and precipitation, that it scarcely deseiTCS
the name of a retreat, was strewed with arms or baggage, whicn in their

»J lUm. de Bellay, 269 &c., 312, &c.
t2

27G DEATU OF TUE DAUPHIN.

lbook VL

hurry and trepidation they had abandoned, and covered with the sick, the
wounded, and the dead ; insomuch that Martin Bellay, an eye-witness of their
calamities, endeavours to give his readers some idea of them, by comparing
their miseries to those which the Jews suffered from the victorious and de-
structive arms of the Romans.** If Montmorency, at this critical moment,
had advanced with all his forces, nothing could have saved the whole impericd
army from utter ruin. But that general, by standing so long and so obsti-
nately on the defensive, had become cautious to excess ; his mind, tenacious
of any bent it had once taken, could not assume a contrary one as suddenly
as the change of circumstances required ; and he still continued to repeat
his favourite maxims, that it was more prudent to allow the lion to escape,
than to drive him to despair, and that a bridge of gold should be made for
a retreating enemy.

The emperor haying conducted the shattered remains of his troops to
the frontiers of Milan, and appointed the Marquis del Guasto to succeed
Leyva in the government of that duchy, set out for Genoa. As he could not
bear to expose himself to the scorn of the Italians, after such a sad reverse of
fortune; and did not choose, under his present circumstances, to rcAisit
those cities through which he had so lately passed in triumph for one con-
quest, and in certain expectation of another; he embarked directly for
Spain.*^

Nor was the progress of his arms on the opposite frontier of France
such as to alleviate, in any degree, the losses which he had sustamed in Pro-
vence. Bellay, by his address and intrigues, had prevailed on so many of the
German princes to withdraM^ the contingent of troops which they had fur-
nished to the king of the Romans, that he was obliged to lay aside all thoughts
of his intended irruption into Champagne. Though a powerful army levied
in the Low Countries entered Picardy, which they found but feebly guarded
while the strength of the kingdom was drawn towards the south ; yet the
nobility, taking arms with thpir usual alacritj', supplied by their spirit the
defects of the king's preparations, and defended Peronne, and other towns
which were attacked, with such vigour, as obliged the enemy to retire, with-
out making any conquest of importance.*®

Thus Prancis, by the prudence of his own measures, and by the union and
valour of his subjects, rendered abortive those vast efforts in which his rival
had almost exhausted his whole force. As this humbled the emperor's ar-
rogance no less than it checked his power, he was mortified more sensibly on
this occasion than on any other, dui-ing the course of the long contests between
hhn and the French monarch.

One circumstance alone embittered the joy ynih which the success of the
campaign inspired Prancis. That was the death of the dauphin, his eldest
son, a prince of great hopes, and extremely beloyed by the people on account
of his resemblance to his father. This happening suddenly, was imputed to
poison, not only by the vulgar, fond of ascribing the deatli of illustrious per-
sonages to extraordinary causes, but by the kmg and his ministers. The
Count de Montecuculi, an Italian nobleman, cup-bearer to the dauphin.
being seized on suspicion and put to the torture, openly charged the imperial
generals, Gonzago and Le>Ta, with having instigated him to the commission
of that crime ; he even threw out some indirect and obscure accusations
against the emperor himself. _ At a time when all France was exasperated to
the utmost against Charles, tliis uncertain and extorted charge was considered
as an incontestable proof of guilt ; while the confidence with which both he

" Ibid. 316. Sandov. Hist, del Emper. ii. 232.

i^ Jovii Histor. lib. xxxv. p. 174, &c. « Xlem. de Bellay, 318, &c

BCOK Vl.] HOSTILITIES IN IKE LOW COUXTKIES. 277

and his officcFS asserted their own innocence, together vrith the indignation,
as well as horror, which they expressed on their bein^ supposed capable of
sucli a detestable action, were little attended to and less regarded.'' It is
evident, however, that the emperor could have no inducement to perpetrate
sucli a crime, as Francis was still in the vigour of life himself, and had two
sous, beside the dauphin, grown u]) almost to the age of manhood. That single
consideration, without mentiomng the emperor's general character, un-
blemished by the imputation of any deed resembling this in atrocity, is more
than sufficient to counterbalance the weight of a dubious testimonv uttered
during the anguish of torture.'* According to the most unpreiudiccd his-
torians, the dauphin's death Mas occasioned b>; liis having drunk too freely
of cold water after over-heating himself at temiis ; and this account, as it is
the most simple, is likewise the most credible. But if his days were cut short
by poison, it is not improbable that the emperor conjectured rightly when
he affirmed that it had been administered by the direction of Catherine of
Medici, in order to secure the crown to the duke of Orleans, her husband,"
The advantages resulting to her by the dauj>hin's death, were obvious as well
as great ; not did her boundless and daring ambition ever recoil from any
action necessary towards attaining the objects which she had in view.

IXext year [1537] opened with a transaction very uncommon, but so in-
capable of producing any effect, that it would not deserve to be mentioned, if
it were not a striking proof of the personal animosity which mingled itself in
all the hostilities between Charles and Erancis, and which often betrayed
them into such indecencies towards each other, as lessened the dignity of
both. Francis, accompanied by the peers and princes of the blood, having
taken his seat in the parliament of Paris \yith the usual solemnities, the ad-
vocate-general appeared ; and after accusing Charles of Austria (for so he
affected to call the emperor) of having violated the treaty of Cambray, by
which he was absolved from the homage due to the crown of France for the
counties of Artois and Flanders ; insisted that this treaty, being now void, he
was still to be considered as a vassal of the crown, and, by consequence, had
been guilty of rebellion in taking arms against his sovereign; and there-
fore he demanded that Charles should be summoned to appear in pei-son, or by
his counsel, before the parliament of Paris, his legal judges, to answer for
this crime. The request was granted ; a herald repaired to the frontiers of
Pieardy, and summoned liim with the accustomed formalities to appear a^rainst
a day pretixcd. That term being expu-ed, and no person appearing m his
name, the parliament gave judgment, " That Charles of Austria had forfeited
by rebellion and contumacy those fiefs ; declared Flanders and Artois to be
reunited to the crown of France ;" and ordered their decree for this purpose to
bejiublished by sound of trumpet on the frontiers of these provinces.-'^

~oon after this vain display of his resentment, rather than of his power,
neis marched towards the Low Countries, as if he had intended to execute

e sentence which his parliament had pronounced, and to seize those ter-
ritories which it had awarded to him. As the queen of Hungry, to whom
her brother the emperor had committed the government of that* part of his
dominions, vras not prepared for so early a campaign, he at first made some
progress, and took some toii^Tis of importance. But being obliged soon to
leave his army in order to superintend the other operations of war, the
Flemings, haymg assembled a numerous army, not only recovered most of
tlie places which they had lost, but began to make conquests in their turn.

oe ]

m

I

!• Ibid. 289. ^ '» Sandov. Hist, del Emper. ii. 231.

*" Vera y Zuniga, Vida de Carlos V, p. 75.

=^ Lettres et Memoires d'Etut, pur Ribier, 2 torn. Blois, 1666, torn. i. p. 1.

278 SUSPENSION or aiims. [book vi.

At last they iiivested Terouenne, and the duke of Orleans, now dauphin, by
the death of his brother, and Montmorency, whom Erancis had honoured
v,dth the constable's sword, as the reward of liis great services during the
former campaign, determined to hazard a battle in order to relieve it. While
they were advancing for this purpose, and within a few miles of the enemy,
they were stopped short by the arrival of a herald from the queen of Hungary,
acquainting him tliat a suspension of arms was now agreed upon.
^ This unexpected event was owing to the zealous endeavours of the two
sisters, the queens of France and of Hungarj^ who had long laboured to
reconcile the contending monarchs. The war in the IS^etherlands had laid
waste the frontier provinces of both countries, Vv'ithout any real advantage
to cither. The Erench and Flemings equally regretted the interruption of
their commerce, which was beneficial to both. Charles, as well as Erancis,
who had each strained to the utmost, in order to support the vast operations
of the former campaign, found that they could not now keep armies on foot
in this quarter, without weakening their operations in Piedmont, where
both wished to push the war with the greatest vigour. All these circum-
stances facilitated the negotiations of the two queens ; a truce was concluded,
to continue in force for ten months, but it extended no farther than the Low
Countries .^^

In Piedmont the war was still prosecuted mth great animosity; and
though neither Charles nor Erancis could make the powerful efforts to which
this animosity prompted them, they continued to exert themselves like com-
batants, whose rancour remains after their strength is exhausted. Towns wei-e
alternately lost and retaken ; skirmishes were fought eveiy day ; and much
blood was shed, mthout any action that gave a decided superiority to either
side. At last the two queens, determining not to leave unfinished the good
work which they had begun, prevailed, by their importunate solicitations, the
one on her brother, the other on her husband, to consent also to a truce in Pied-
mont for three months. The conditions of it were, that each should keep pos-
session of what was in his hands, and, after leaving garrisons in the towns,
should withdraw his army out of the province ; and that plenipotentiaries
should be appointed to adjust all matters in dispute by a final treaty.--

The powerful motives which inclined both princes to this accommodation,
have been often mentioned. The expenses of the war had far exceeded the
sums which their revenues were capable of supplying ; nor durst they venture
upon any great addition to the impositions then established, as subjects had
not yet learned to bear with patience the immense burdens to which they
have become accustomed in modern times. The emperor in particular,
though he had contracted debts which in that age appeared prodigious,"-^^ had
it not in. his power to pay the large aiTcars long due to liis army. At the
same time, he had no prospect of deriving any aid in money or men either
from the pope or Venetians, though he had employed promises and threats,
alternately, in order to procure it. But he found the former not only fixed in
his resolution of adhering steadily to the neutrality wliich he had always de-
clared to be suitable to his character, but passionately desirous of bringing
about a peace. He perceived that the latter were still intent on tlieir
ancient object of holding the balance even between the rivals, and sohcitous
not to throw too great a weight into either scale.

What made a deeper impression on Charles than all these, was the dread
of the Turkish arms, which, by his league with Solyman, Erancis had drawn
■upon him. Though Erancis, without the assistance of a single ally, had a war
to maintain against an enemy greatly superior in power to liimself, yet so

21 Mdm. de Eibier, 56. « Ibid. 62. ^^ ibid. i. 294

BOOK VI.] JJEGOTIAnONS TOE PEACE. 270

great was the horror of Christians, in that age, at any union with infidels,
which they considered not only as dishonourable but profane, tliat ' it was
long- before he could be broudit to avail himself of the obvious advantaares
resulting from such a confederacy. Necessity at last surmounted his ae-
lioacy and sci*uplcs. Towards the close of the preceding year. La Forest, a
secret agent at the Ottoman Porte, had coucluclcd a treaty with the sultan,
whereby Solyman engaged to invade the kingdom of Naples, during the next
campaigUj and to attack the king of the llomans in Hungary with a poAverfni
army, while Prancis undertook to enter the Milanese at the same tune with
a proper force. Soljman had punctually performed what was incumbent on
him. Barbarossa with a great fleet appeared on the coast of Naples ; fiUed.
that kingdom, from which all the troops had been drawn towards Piedmont,
with consternation; landed without resistance near Taranto ; obliged Castro,
a place of some strength, to suiTcnder; plundered the adjacent country, ana
Avas taking measures for securing and extending his conquests, when the
expected arrival of Doria, together with the pope's galleys and a squadron of
the Venetian fleet, made it prudent for him to retire. ^ In Hungary the pro-
gress of the Turks was more formidable. Mahmet, their general, after gaining
several small advantages, defeated the Germans, in a great battle at Essek
on the Drave.-* Happily for Christendom, it was not in Prancis's power to
execute with egual exactness what be had stipulated; nor could he as-
semble at this juncture an army strong enough to penetrate into the ^li-
lanese. By this he failed in recovering possession of that duchy ; and Italy
was not only saved from the calamities of a new war, but from feeling the
desolating ra^e of the Turkish arms, as an addition to all that it had suf-
fered.-^\ As the emperor knew that he could not long resist the efforts of two
such powerful confederates, nor coidd expect that the same fortunate acci-
dents would concur a second time to deliver Naples, and to preserve the Mi-
lanese ; as he foresaw that the Italian states would not only tax him loudly
with insatiable ambition, but might even turn their arms against him, if he
should be so regai-dless of their danger as obstinately to protract the war, he
thought it necessary, both for his safety and reputation, to give his consent
to a truce. \ Nor was Praneis Moiling to sustain all the blame of obstructing
the re-establishment of tranqiiiUity, or to expose himself on that account to
the danger of being deserted oy the Swiss and other foreigners in his service.
He even began to apprehend that his own subjects would serve him coldly, if,
by contributing to aggrandize the power of the infidels, which it was his
duty, and had been the ambition of his ancestors, to depress, he continued to
act in dii-ect opposition to all the principles which ought to influence a mo-

Rxch distinguished by the title of Most Christian King. He chose, for all
ese reasons, rather to run the risk of disobliging his new ally, the sultan,
an, by an unseasonable adherence to the treaty with him, to forfeit what
as of greater consequence.
But though both parties consented to a truce, the plenipotentiaries found
superable difficulties in settling the articles of a definitive treaty. Each
of the monarehs, with the arrogance of a conqueror, aimed at giving law to

«e other ; and neither would so for acknowledge his inferiority, as to sacrifice
ly point of honoui', or to relinquish any matter of right ; so that the pleni-
►tcntiaries spent the time in long and fruitless negotiations, and separated
ter agreeing to prolong the truce for a few months. [1538.]
The pope, liowever, did not despair of accomplishing a point m which the
enipotentiaries had failed, and took upon himself the sole bui'den of nego-
tiating a peace. To form a confederacy capable of defending Christendom

I

« Istuanheffi Hist. Hung. lib. xiii. p. 139. « Jovii Hist, lib. ^xxv. p. 183.

230 . TErCE CONCLUDED AT NICE. [BOOK VI.

from the formidable im-cads of the Turkish arms, and to concert effectual
measures for the extirpation of the Lutheran heresy, were two great objects
which Paul had much at heart, and he considered the union of the emperor
with the king of France as an essential preliminary to both. To be the iu-
r.trument^ of reconciling these contending monarchs, whom his predecessors
by then- interested and indecent intrigues had so often embroiled, was a cir-
cumstance which could not fail of throwing distinguished lustre on his cha-
racter and administration. Nor was he without hopes that, while he pursued
this laudable end, he might secure advantages to his own family, the ag-
grandizing of which he did not neglect, though he auned at it with a less
audacious ambition than was common among the popes of that century. In-
fluenced by these considerations, he proposed an interview between the two
monarchs at Nice, and offered to repair thither in person, that he might act
as mediator in composing all their differences. When a pontiff of a venerable
character, and of a very advanced age, was willing, from liis zeal for peace,
to undergo the fatigues of so long a journey, neither Charles nor Irancis
could with decency decline the interview. But though both came to the
place of rendezvous, so great was the difficulty of adjusting the ceremonial,
or such the remains of distrust and rancour on each side, that they refused
to see one another, and everything was transacted by the intervention of the
pope, who visited them alternately. With all his zeal and ingenuity he could
not find out a method of removing the obstacles which prevented a final
accommodation, particularly those arising from the possession of the Mi-
lanese ; nor was all the weight of his authority sufficient to overcome the ob-
stinate perseverance of either monarch m asserting his own claims. At last,
that he might not seem to have laboured altogether without effect, he pre-
vailed on them to sign a truce for ten years, upon the same condition with
the former, that each should retain what was now in his possession, and in
the meantime should send ambassadors to Rome, to discuss their pretensions
at leisure.-®

Thus ended a war of no long continuance, but very extensive in its opera-
tions, and in which both parties exerted their utmost strength. Though
Prancis failed in the object that he had principally in view, the recovery of
the Milanese, he acquired, nevertheless, great reputation by the wisdom of
his measures as well as the success of his arms, in repelling a formidable in-
vasion; and by keeping possession of one-lialf of the duke of Savoy's domi-
nions, he added no inconsiderable accession of strength to his kingdom.
Whereas Charles, repulsed and baffled, after haying boasted so aiTOgantly of
victory, purchased an inglorious truce, by sacrificing an ally who had rashly
confided too much in his friendship and power. The unfortunate duke mur-
mured, complained, and remonstrated against a treaty so much to his disad-
vantage, but in vain ; he had no means of redress, and was obliged to submit.
Of all his dominions, Nice, with its dependencies, was the only corner of
which he himself kept possession. He saw the rest divided between a power-
ful uivader and the ally to whose protection he had trusted, while he _re-
mamed a sad monument of the imprudence of weak prmces, who, by taking
part in the quarrel of mighty neighbours, between whom they happen to be
situated, are crushed and overwhelmed in the shock.

A few days after signin"- the treaty of truce, the emperor set sail for
Barcelona, but was driven by contrary winds to the island of St. Margaret,
on the coast of Provence. W hen Prancis, who happened to be not far distant,
heard of this, he considered it as an office of civility to invite hun to take

2c Eecueil des Traites, ii. 210. Eelazione di Nicolo Tiepolo del I'Abbocamento di Nizza,
ap. Du Mont, Corps Diplomat, par ii. p. 174.

m

BOOK. VI.J ASSASSINATION OF ALEXANDER DE' MEDICI. 2S1

shelter in his dominions, and proposed a personal interview with him at
Aigucs-niortes. The emperor, who would not be outdone by his rival in
coniphiisaucc, instantly repaired thither. As soon as he cast anchor in the
road, I'rancis, without waiting to settle any point of cerem9ny, but relying
implicitly on the emperor's honour for his security, visited him on board hia
galley, and was received and entertained witii the warmest demonstrations
of esteem and affection. Next day the emperor repaid the confidence which
the king had placed in him. He landed at Aigues-mortes with as little pre-
caution, and met with a reception equally cordial. He remained on shore
during the ni^ht, and in both visits the two monarchs vied with each other in
expressions ot respect and friendship.-" After twenty years of open hostilities,
or of secret emnity ; after so many injuries reciprocally inllicted or endured;
after having fonnally given the lie and challenged one another to single
combat ; after the emperor had inveighed so pubhcly against Francis as a
prince void of honour or integrity • and after Erancis had accused him of
Tjeiug accessoiy to the murder ot liis eldest son, such an interview appears
altogether singular, and even umiatural. But the history of these mouai-chs
abounds with such surprising transitions. From implacable hatred they ap-
peared to pass, in a moment, to the most cordial reconcilement ; from sus-
l)icion and distrust to perfect confidence ; and from practising all the dark
arts of a deceitful pohcy, they could assume, of a sudden, the liberal and open
manners of two gallant gentlemen.

The pope, besides the glory of having restored peace to Eiu'ope, gained,
according to his expectation, a pomt of great consequence to his family, by
prevailuig on the emperor to betroth Margaret of Austria, his natural daughter,
formerly the wife ot Alexander de' Medici, to his grandson Octavio Famese,
and, in consideration of this marriage, to bestow several honoui's and terri-
tories upon his future son-in-law. A very tragical event, which happened
about the be'^inuing of the year one thousand five hmidred and thirty-seven,
had deprived Margaret of her first husband. That young prince, whom the
emperor's partiality had raised to the supreme power in Florence, upon the
ruins of the pubHc hberty, neglected entnely the cares of government, and
abandoned himself to the most dissolute debauchery. Lorenzo de' Medici, his
nearest kinsman, was not only the companion but director of his pleasures,
and, employing all the powers of a cultivated and inventive genius in this
dishonourable ministry, added such elegance as well as variety to vice, as
gained him an absolute ascendant over the mind of Alexander. But while
Lorenzo seemed to be sunk in luxury, and affected such an appearance of in-
dolenceand ell'eminacy, that he would not wear a sword, and trembled at the
ight of blood, he concealed under that disguise a dark, designing, audacious
pirit. Prompted either by the love of liberty, or allured by the hope of
ttaining the supreme power, he determmed to assassinate Alexander, his
nefactor and friend. Though he long revolved this design in Ids mind, his
reserved and suspicious temper prevented him from communicating it to any
person whatever; and continuing to live with Alexander in their usual faaii-
tiarity, he, one night, under pretence of having secured him an assignation
with a lady of high rank whom he had often solicited, di-ew that unwary
Tjrince into a secret apartment of his house, and there stabbed him, while he
lay carelessly on a couch, expecting the arrival of the lady whose company
he had been promised. But no sooner was the deed done, then standing
astonished, and struck with horror at its atrocity, he forgot, in a moment,
all the motives which had induced him to commit it. Instead of rousing the

2" Sandov. Hist. vol. ii. 238. Relation de I'Entrevue de Charles V. et Fran. I. par M.
de la Eivoire. Hist, de Laugued. par D. D. De Vic. et Vaisette, torn. v. Preuves, p. 93

2S2 CHAIILE3 SUTPOaT;^ COS^O DE' MEDICI. [-BCOIi 71.

people to recover their liberty by publishing tlie death of the tyrant, instead
of taking any step towards opening his own way to the dignity now vacant,
he locked the door of the apartment, and like a man bereaved of reason and
presence of mind, lied with the utmost precipitation out of the Plorentino
territories. It w;as late next morning before the fate of the unfortunate prince
Y/as known, as his attendants, accustomed to his irregularities, never entered
his_ apartment early. Immediately the chief persons in the state assembled.
Being induced partly by the zeal of Cardinal Cibo for the house of Medici, to
which he was nearly related, partly by the authority of Prancis Guicciardini,
who recalled to their memory, and represented in striking colours, the
caprice as well as turbulence of their ancient popular government, they
agreed to place Cosmo de' Medici, a youth of eighteen, the only male heir
of that illustrious house, at the head of the govennnent ; though at the same
time, such was their love of liberty, that they established several regulations
in order to circumscribe and moderate his power.

Meanwhile Lorenzo, having reached a place of safety, made known what
he done to Philip Strozzi and the other Plorentmes who had been driven into
exile, or who had voluntarily retired, when the repubKcan form of govern-
ment was abolished, in order to make way for the dominion of the Medici.
By them the deed was extolled with extravagant praises, and the virtue of
Lorenzo was compared with that of the elder Brutus, who disregarded the
ties of blood, or with that of the younger, who forgot the friendsliip and
favours of the tyrant, that they might preserve or recover the liberty of their
country .23 Nor _did_ they rest satisfied with empty panegyrics ; they immedi-
ately quitted their different places of retreat, assembled forces, animated tlieir
vassals and partisans to take arms, and to seize this opportunity of re-esta-
blishing the public liberty on its ancient foundation. Being openly assisted
bythePrench ambassador at Eome, and secretlv encom-aged by the pope,
who bore no good-wUl to the house of Medici, they entered the Plorentine
dominions with a considerable body of men. But the persons who had elected
Cosmo possessed not only the means of supporting his government, but
abilities to employ them in the most proper manner. They levied, with the
greatest expedition, a^ good number of troops ; they endeavoured by every art
to gain the citizens of greatest authority, and to render the administration of
the young prince agreeable to the people. _ Above all, they courted the em-
peror's protection, as the only firm foundation of Cosmo's dignity and power.
Charles, knowing the propensity _ of the Plorentmes to the friendsliip of
Prance, and how much all the partisans of a republican government detested
Mm as the oppressor of their liberties, saw it to be greatly for liis interest to
prevent the re-estabhshment of the ancient constitution in Plorcnce. Por this
reason, he not only acknowledged Cosmo as head of the Plorentine state, and
conferred on him all the titles of honour with which Alexander had been dig-
nified, but engaged to defend liim to the utmost ; and, as a pledge of this,
ordered the commanders of such of his troops as were stationed on the fron-
tiers of Tuscany, to support him against aU aggressors. By their aid, Cosmo
obtained an easy victory over the exiles, whose troops he sirrprised in the
night-time, and took most of the chiefs prisoners ; an event which broke all
their measures, and fully established his own authority. But though he was
extremely desirous of the additional honour of marrying the emperor's
daughter, the widow of his predecessor, Charles, secure already of his at-
tachment, chose rather to gratify the pope, by bestowing her on his nephew.^

28 Lettere de' Principi, torn. iii. p. 52.

29 Jovii Hist. c. xcviii. p. 218, &c- Belcarii Comment, lib. xxii. p. G96. Istoria de'
Buoi Tempi di Giov. Bat. Adriani. Ven. 1587, p. 10.

I

BOOK Vi.J PEOGIIESS OP TUE HErORMATION. 288

piu-ing the ^irar between the emperor and Fi-ancis, an event had hapijened
which abated in some degree the warmth and cordiaJity of friendship which
had long subsisted between the latter and the king of England. James the
Jj'ifth of Scothmd, an enterprising young prince, having heard of the em-
peror's intention to invade Provence, was so fond of showing that he did
not yield to any of Iiis ancestors in the sincerity of his attactmient to the
French crown, and so eager to distinguish himself by some military exploit,
that he levied a body of troops with an intention of leading them in person
to the assistance of the king of France. Though some unfortunate accident
prevented his carrying any troops into France, nothing could divert him from
going thither in person. Immediately upon his landing, he hastened to Pro-
vence, but had been detained so long in his voyage, that he came too late to
have any share in the military operations, and met the king on his return
after the retreat of the imperialists. But Francis was so greatly pleased
with his zeal, and no less with his manners and conversation, that he could
not refuse him his daughter jMagdalcn, whom he demanded in marriage. It
mortilied Henry extremely to see a prince of whom he was immoderately
jealous, form an alliance, Irom which he derived such an accession of reputa-
tion as well as security.^'' He could not, however, with decency, oppose
Francis's bestowing his daughter upon a monarch descended from a race of

Srinces, the most ancient and faithful allies of the French crown. But when
ames, upon the sudden death of Magdalen, demanded as his second wife
Mary of Giuse, he wannly solicited Francis to deny his suit, and, in order to
disappoint him, asked that hidy in man-iage for himself. When Francis pre-
ferred the Scottish king's sincere courtship to his artful and malevolent
proposal, he discovered much dissatisfaction. The pacification agreed upon
at Aice, and the familiar interview of the two rivals at Aigues-mortes, tilled
Hem-y's mind with new suspicious, as if Francis had altogether renounced
his friendship for the sake of new connexions with the emperor. Charles,
thoroughly acquainted with the temper of the English king, and watchful to
observe all the shiftings and caprices of his passions, thought this a favour-
able opportunity of renewing his negotiations with him, which had been long
broken off. By the death of Queen Cathaiine, whose interest the emperor
could not with decency have abandoned, the chief cause of their discord was
removed; so that, without touching upon the delicate question of her divorce,
he might now take what measures he thought most effectual for regaining
Henry's good wdl. For this purpose, he began ^vith proposing several mar-
riage-treaties to the king. He offered his niece, a daughter of the king of
Denmark, to Henry himself; he demanded the Princess Slary, for one of the
princes of Portugal, and was even willing to receive her as the king's ille-
gitunate daughter.^^ Though none of these projected alliances ever took
place, or perhaps were ever seriously intended, they occasioned such frequent
intercourse between the courts, and so many reciprocal professions of eiviHty
and esteem, as considerably abated the edge of Henry's rancour against the
emperor, and paved the way for that union between them which afterwards
proved so disadvantageous to the French king.

The ambitious schemes in which the emperor had been engaged, and the
wars he had been caiTying on for some years, proved, as usual, extremely
" ivom'able to the progress of the reformation in Germany. While Charles
as absent upon his African expedition, or intent on his projects against
iVance, his chief object in Germany was to prevent the dissensions about re-
ligion from disturbing the public tranquillity, by gi*anting such indulgence
to the protestant princes as might induce them to concur with his measures

^■[as

^^Prai

»« Hist, of Scotland vol. L p. 75. a* M^m. de Ribier, torn. i. 496.

284 NEGOTIATIONS TOR A GENERAL COUNCIL. [BOOK VI.

or at least hinder them from taking part ^vith his rival. For tliis reason, he
was careful to secure to the protestants the i)ossessioii of all the advantages
which they had gained by the articles of pacification at Nuremberg, in the
year one thousand five hundred and thirty-two;'- and, except some slight
trouble from the proceedings of the imperial chamber, they met with uothm»
to disturb them in the exercise of their religion, or to intemipt the successful
zeal with which they propagated their opinions. Meanwhile, the pope con-
tinued his negotiations for convoking a general council ; and though the
protestants had expressed great dissatisfaction with his intention to fix upon
Mantua as the place of meeting, he adhered obstinately to his choice, and
issued a bull on the second of June, one thousand five hundred and thirty-six,
appointing it to assemble in that city on the twenty-third of May, the year
following ; he nominated three cardinals to preside in his nanie ; enjoined all
Christian princes to countenance it by their authority, and invited the prelates
of every nation to attend in person. This summons of a comicil, an assembly
which, from its nature and intention, demanded quiet times, as well as pacific
dispositions, at the very juncture when the emperor was on his march towards
Trance, and ready to involve a great part of Europe in the confusions of war,
appeared to every person extremely unseasonable. It was intimated, how-
ever, to all the diiierent courts by nuncios despatched on purpose.^^ With an
intention to gratify the Germans, the emperor, during his residence in Rome,
had warmly solicited the pope to call a council; but being at the same time
willing to try every art in order to persuade Paul to depart from the neutrality
which he preserved between him and Erancis, he sent Heldo, his vice-chan-
cellor, into Germany, along with a nuncio despatched thither, instructing him
to second all the nuncio's representations, and to enforce them with the
whole weight of the imperial authority. The protestants gave them audience
at Smalkaide, where they liad assembled in a body, in order to receive them.
But after weighing all their argmnents, they unanimously refused to acknow-
ledge a council summoned in the name and by the authority of the pope
alone; in which he assumed the sole right of presiding; which was to be
held in a city not only far distant from Germany, but subject to a prince who
was a stranger to them, and closely connected with the court of Kome ; and
to which their divmes could not repair M'ith safety, especially after their
doctrmes had been stigmatized in the very bull of convocation with the name
of heresy. These and many other objections against the council, which ap-
peared to them unanswerable, they enumerated in a large manifesto, which
they published in vindication of their conduct.'^

Against this the court of Rome exclaimed as a flagrant proof of their ob-
stinacy and presumption, and the pope still persisted in his resolution to hold
the council at the time and in the place appointed. But some imexpected
diiiiculties bemg started by the duke of Mantua, both about the right of juris-
diction over the persons who resorted to the council, and the security of his
capital amidst such a concoui'se of strangers, the pope, after fiaiitless endea-
vours to adjust these, first prorogued the council for some months, and
afterwards transferring the place of meeting to Yicenza, in the Venetian terri-
tories, appointed it to assemble on the first of May in the following year. As
neither the emperor nor the French king, who had not then come to any ac-
commodation, would permit their subjects to repair thither, not a single pre-
late appeared on the day prefixed, and the pope, that his authority might not

'^- Da Mont, Corps Diplom. torn. iv. purt ii. p. 13S.

s-J Pallavic. Hist. Cone. Irid. 1 13.

«* Sleid. lib. sii. 123, &c. Seckend, Com. lib. iii. p. 143, &c.

BOOK M.] FORillTION OP THE " HOLY LEAGUE." 285

become altogether contemptible b-y so many ineffectual efforts to convoke
that assembly, put off the meeting by an indefinite prorogation."

But, that he might not seem to have turned his whole attention towards a
reformation which he was not able to accomplish, while he neglected that
which was in his own power, he deputed a certain number of cardinals and
bishops, with full authority to inquire into the abuses and corruptions of the
Koman court ; and to propose the most effectual method of removing them.
This scrutiny, undertaken with reluctance, was carried on slowly and with
remissness. All defects were touched with a gentle hand, afraid of probing
too deep, or of discovering too much. But even by tliis partial exanunation,
many irregularities were detected, and many euonnities exposed to light,
while the remedies which they suggested as most proper, were either inade-
quate, or were never applied. The report and resolution of these deputies,
tnough intended to be kept secret, were transmitted by some accident mto
Germany, and, being immediately made pubhc, afforded ample matter for re-
flection and triumph to the protestants.^*^ On the one hand, they demon-
strated the necessity of a reformation in the head as well as the members of
the church, and even pointed out many of the corruptions against which
Luther and his followers had remonstrated with the greatest vehemence.
They showed, on the other hand, that it was vain to expect this reformation
from ecclesiastics themselves, who, as Luther strongly expressed it, piddled
at curing warts, while they overlooked or confirmed ulcers.^'

[1539.] The earnestness with which the emperor seemed at first, to press
their acquiescing in the pope's scheme of holding a council in Italy, alarmed
the protestant princes so m.ueh, that they thought it pnident to strengthen
their confederacj^ by adrnittin^ several new members who solicited that pri-
vilege, particularly the king ot Denmark, Heldo, who, during his residence
in Germany, had observed all the advantages which they derived from that
luiiou, endeavoured to counterbalance its effects by an 'alliance among the
catholic powers of the empire. This league, distinguished by the name of
holj/, was merely defensive ; and, though concluded by Heldo in'the emperor's
name, was afterwards disowned by him, and subscribed by very few princes.^^
The Protestants soon got intelligence of this association, notwithstanding all
the encleavours of the contracting parties to conceal it ; and their zeal, always
apt; to suspect and to dread, even to excess, everything that seemed to threaten
religion, instantly took the alarm, as if the emperor had been just ready to
enter upon the execution of some formidable plan for the extu-pation of tlieir
opinions. In order to disappoint this, they held frequent consultations, they
courted the kings of Trance and England with ^reat assiduity, and even began
to think of raising the respective contingents, both in men and money, wliieh
they were obliged to furnish by the treaty of Smalkalde. But it was not long
before they were convinced that these apprehensions were without foundation,
and that the emperor, to whom repose was absolutely necessary after efforts
so much beyond his strength in the war with France, had no thoughts of dis-
turbing the tranquillity of Germany, As a proof of this, at an interview
^vith the protestant princes in Francibrt, his ambassadors agreed that all con-
'ssions in their favour, particularly those contained ui tne pacification of
uremberg, should continue in force for fifteen months ; that during this
;riod all proceedings of the imperial chamber against them should be sus
pended ; that a coiilerenee should be held by a few di\-ines of each party, in
order to discuss the points in controversy, and to propose articles ot accom-

« F. Paul, 117. PaUavic. 177. ^^ sicid. 233.

" Seek. lib. ill 164. » Idem, lib. iii. 171. Recueil de Trait^s.

286 STATE 01 THE EMPEROE's FINANCES. [r.OOK VI.

modation which should be laid before the next diet. Though the emperor,
that he might not irritate the pope, -who remonstrated against the first part
of this agreement as impolitic, and against the latter as an impious encroach-
ment upon his prerogative, never formally ratified this convention, it was
observed with considerable exactness, and greatly strengthened the basis of
that ecclesiastical liberty for which the protestants contended.^^

A few days after the convention at Erancfort, George, duke of Saxony,
died, and his death was an event of great advantage to the reformation. That
prince, the head of the Albertine, or younger branch of the Saxon family,
possessed, as marquis of Misnia and Thuringia, extensive territories, com-
prehending Dresden, Leipsic, and other cities now the most considerable in
the electorate. Prom the first dawn of the refonnation, he had been its enemy
as avowedly as the electoral princes were its protectors, and had earned on
his opposition not onlywith all the zeal flowing from rcHgious prejudices, but
with a virulence inspired by personal antipathy to Luther, and embittered
by the domestic animosity subsisting between him and the other branch of his
family. By his death without issue, liis succession fell to his brother Henry,
whose attachment to the protestant religion surpassed, if possible, that of his
predecessor to popery. Henry no sooner took possession of his new do-
minions, than, disregarding a clause in George's will, dictated by his bigotry,
wliereby he bequeathed all liis territories to the emperor and king oi the
Komans, if his brother should attempt to make any innovation in religion, he
invited some protestant divines, and among them Luther himself, to Leipsic.
By their advice and assistance, he overturned in a few weeks the whole
system of ancient rites, establishing the full exercise of the reformed religion,
with the universal applause of his subjects, who had long wished for this
change, which the authority of their duke alone had hitherto prevented.*"
This revolution delivered the protestants from the danger to which they were
exposed by having an inveterate enemy situated in the middle of their tem-
tories ; and they liad now the satisfaction of seeing that the possessions of
the princes ana cities attached to their cause extended in one great and
almost unbroken line from the shore of the Baltic to the banks of the Bhine.

Soon after the conclusion of the truce at Nice, an event happened, wliich
satisfied all Europe that Charles had prosecuted the war to the utmost ex-
tremity that the state of his affairs would permit. Vast arrears were due
to his troops, whom he had long amused with vain_ hopes and promises. As
they now foresaw what little attention would be paid to their demands, when
by the re-establishment of peace their services oecame of less importance,
they lost all patience, broke out into an open mutiny, and declared that they
thought themselves entitled to seize by violence what was_ detained from
them contraiy to all justice. Nor was this spirit of sedition confined to
one part of the emperor's dominions; the nmtinywas almost as general as
the grievance which gave rise to it. Tlie soldiers in the Milanese plundered
the open country without control, and filled the capital itself with con-
sternation. Those in garrison at Goletta threatened to give up that ini-
portant fortress to Barbarossa. Li Sicily the troops proceeded to still
greater excesses ; having driven away their olficers, they elected others in
their stead, defeated a body of men whom the viceroy sent against them,
took and pillaged several cities, conducting themselves all the while in
such a manner, that their operations resembled rather the regular proceedings
of a concerted rebellion, than the rashness and violence of military mutiiiy.
But by the address and prudence of the generals, who, partly by borrowing
money in their own name, or in that of their master, partly by extorting large

39 F. Paul, 82. Sieid. 2-17. Seek. lib. iii. 200. " Sleid. 2i9.

BOOK VI.] TUE COETES SUBVEUTEO. 257

sums from tts cities in their respective provinces, raised wliat was suHicicnt
to discharge the aiTears of the soldiers, these insurrections were quelled.
The greater pai-t of the trooi^s were disoauded, such a number only being
kept In pay as was necessary for garisoinni? the principal towns, and protect-
ing the sea-coasts from the insults of the Turks.'"

It was happy for the emperor that the abilities of his generals extricated
him out of these difficulties, which it exceeded his own power to have removed.
He had depended, as his chief resource for discharging the arrears due^ to his
soldiers, upon the subsidies which Jic expected from his Castilian subjects,
For this purpose, he assembled the Cortes of Castile at Toledo ; and having
represented to them the extraordinai-v expense of his military operations,
together with the great debts in which these had necessarily involved him,
he proposed to levy such supplies as the present exigency of his aflairs de-
manded, by a general excise on commodities. Eut the Spaniai-ds akeady felt
themselves oppressed with a load of taxes unkno^yn to their ancestors. They
had often complained that tlicir country was drained not only of its wealth
but of its inhabitants, in order to prosecute quarrels in which it was not
interested, and to liglit battles from which it could reap no benefit, and they
detcraiiued not to add voluntarily to their o^\ti burdens, or to f ui-nish the
emperor with the means of engagmg in new enterprises, no less ruinous to
the kingdom than most of those which he had hitherto carried on. The nobles,
in particulai', inveighed with great vehemence against the imposition pro-
posed, as an encroachment upon the valuable and distinguishing privilege of
their order, that of being exempted from the payment of any tax. They de-
manded a conference with the representatives of the cities concerning the
state of the nation. They contended that if Charles would imitate the ex-
araple of his predecessors, who had resided constantly in Spain, and would
avoid entangling himself in a multiplicity of transactions foreign to the con-
cerns of his Spanish dominions, tne stated revenues of the crown would be
fully sufficient to defray the necessary expenses of government. They repre-
sented to liim, that it would be unjust to lay new bui-dens upon the people,
while this prudent and eifectual method of re-establishing public credit, and
secui-ing national opulence, was totally negleeted.^'^ Charles, after emplojing
arguments, entreaties, and promises, but without success, in order to over-
come their obstinacy, dismissed the assembly with great indignation. From
that period neither the nobles nor the prelates have been called to these
asseniljlics, on pretence that such as paj no part of the public taxes should
not claim any vote in laying them on. ISione have been admitted to the cortes
but the procurators or representatives of eighteen cities. These, to the
number of thirty-six, being two from each community, form an assembly
which bears no resemblance, either in power or dignity or independence, to
the ancient cortes, and are absolutely at the devotionof the court in all their
determinations.'*^ Thus the imprudent zeal with which the Castilian nobles
ad supported the regal prerogative, in opposition to the claims of the
commons dui-ing the commotions in the year one thousand five hundred and
twenty-one, proved at last fatal to their o"\vn body. By enabling Charles to
depress one of the orders in the state, they_ destroyed that balance to v.hich
the constitution owed its security, and put_ it in his power, or in that of his
successors, to humble the other, and to strip it gradually of its most valuable
privileges.

At that time, however, the Spanish grandees still possessed extraordinary

<» Jovii Histor. lib. xxxviL 203 c. Sandov. Ferreras, ix. 209.

« Sandov. Hist. vol. ii. 269.

<3 Ibid. vol. ii. 2G9. La Science du Gouvemement, par M. de Real, torn. ii.p. 102.

288 INSURRECTION AT GH£Nl. [BOOK VT.

Ecr^ev as well as privileges, which they exercised and defended with a
aughtiness peculiar to themselves. Of this the emperor himself had a
mortifying proof during the meeting of the cortes at Toledo. As he was re-
turning one day from a tournament, accompanied by most of the nobility,
one of the Serjeants of the court, out of officious zeal to clear the way for
the emperor, struck the duke of Infantado's horse with his batoon, which that
haughty grandee resenting, dre\y his sword, beat and wounded the officer.
Charles, provoked at such an insolent deed in his presence, immediately
ordered Ronquillo, the_ judge of the court, to arrest the duke. Ronquillo
advanced to execute his charge, when the constable of Castile interj)osing,
checked him, claimed the right of jurisdiction over a grandee as a privilege
of his office, and conducted Infantado to his own apartment. All the nobles
present were so pleased with the boldness of the constable in asserting the
rights of their order, that, deserting the emperor, they attended him to his
house with infinite applauses, and Charles returned to the palace, unaccom-
panied by any person but the Cardinal Tavera, The emperor, how sensible
soever of the affront, saw the danger of irritating a jealous and high-
spirited order of men, whom the slightest appearance of offence might
drive to the most unwarrantable extremities. For that reason, instead of
strauiing at any ill-timed exertion of his prerogative, he pmdently connived
at the arrogance of a body too potent for Inm to control, and sent next
morning to the duke of Infantado, offering to inflict what punishment he
pleased on the person who had affronted him. The duke, considering this as
a full reparation to his honour, instantly forgave the officer ; bestowing on
him, besides, a considerable present as a compensation for his wound. Thus
the affair was entirely forgotten ;''^ nor would it have deserved to be mentioned,
if it were not a striking example of the _ high and independent spirit of the
Spanish nobles in that age, as well as an instance of the emperor's dexterity
in accommodating his conduct to the circumstances in which he was placed.
Charles was far from discovering the same condescension or lenity towards
the citizens of Ghent, who, not long after, broke out into open rebellion
against his govermnent. An event which happened in the year one thou-
sand five hundred and thii'ty-six, gave occasion to this rash msurrection, so
fatal to that flourishing city. At that time, the queen-dowager of Hungary,
governess of the Netherlands, having received orders from her brother to
invade France with all the forces which she could raise, she assembled the
states of the United Pro^inces, and obtained from them a subsidy of twelve
hundred thousand florins, to defray the expense of that undertaking. Of
tliis sum, the county of Flanders was obliged to pay a tliird part as its pro-
portion. But the citizens of Ghent, the most considerable city in that
country, averse to a war w4th France, with which they carried on an extensive
and gainful commerce, refused to pay their quota, and contended that, in
consequence of stipulations between them and the ancestors of their present
sovereign, the emperor, no tax could be levied upon them, unless they had
given their express consent to the imposition of it. The govemness, on the
other hand, maintained, that as the subsidy of twelve hundred thousand
florins had been granted, by the states of Flanders, of which their represen-
tatives were members, they were bound, of course^ to conform to what was
enacted by them, as it is the first principle in society, on which the tran-
quillity and order of government depend, that the inclinations of the minority
must be overruled by the judgment and decision of the superior number.

The citizens of Ghent, however, were not willing to relmquish a privilege of
such high importance as that which they claimed. Having been accustomed,

** Sandov. ii. 274. Ferreras, ix. 212. Miniana, 113.

BOOK VI.] THE GANTOIS OFl'ER SUBMISSION TO ilUNCE. 289

under tlic government of the house of Burgundy, to enioj^ extensive iminu-
)iities, and to be treated with much indulgence, they disdamcd to sacrifice to
tlic delegated power of a regent tiiose rights and privileges which they had
often and successfully asserted against their greatest princes. The queen,
though she endeavoured at first to soothe them, and to reconcile them to their
duty bv various concessions, was at last so much irritated by the obstinacy
with which they adhered to their claim, that she ordered all the citizens of
Glient, on whom she could lay hold in any part of the Netherlands, to be ar-
rested. But this rash action made an impression very diilerent from what she
expeetcd, on men whose minds were agitated with :dl the violent passions
which indignation at oppression and zeal for hbei-ty inspire. Less affected
Willi the danger of tneir friends and companions, than irritated at the
governess, they opcnlv despised her authority, and sent deputies to the
other towns of Inlanders, conjuring them not to abandon their country at
such a juncture, but to concur with them in vindicating its rights against the
encroachments of a woman, who either did not know or did not regard their
immunities.

All but a few inconsiderable towns declined entering into any confederacy
;;irainst the governess : they joined, however, in petitioumg her to put off the
icrm for pajment of the tax so long, that they might have it in their power to
send some of their number into Spain, in order to lay their title to exemp-
tion before their sovereign. Tliis she granted v.dth some dilticulty. But
Charles received their commissioners with a haughtiness to which they were
not accustomed from their ancient princes ; and, enjoining them to yield the
same respectful obedience to his sister which they owed to him in person,
remitted the examination of their claims to the council of Malines. This
court, which is properly a standing committee of the parKament or states of
the country, and which possesses the supreme jurisdiction in all matters civil
as well as criminal,'^ pronounced the claim of the citizens of Ghent to be ill-
founded, and appointed them forthwith to pay their proportion of the tax.

Enraged at tins decision, which they considered as notoriously unjust, and
rendered desperate on seeing their rights betrayed by that very coiul which
was bound to protect them, the people of Ghent ran to arms in a tumul-
tuary manner, drove such of the nobility as resided among them out of the
city ; secured several of the emperor's othcers ; put one of them to the torture,
whom they accused of having stolen or destroyed the record that contained a

tification of the privileges of exemption from taxes which they pleaded;

lose a council, to which they commited the direction of their affairs ; gave
orders for repairing and adding to their fortifications ; and openly erected the
standard of rebeUion against their sovereign.^^ Sensible, however, of their
iaability to support what their zeal had prompted them to undertake, and
desirous of securing a protector against the formidable forces by which they
might expect soon to be attacked, they sent some of their nmnber to Francis,
ofl'ering not only to acknowledge him as their sovereign, and to put him in
immediate possession of Ghent, but to assist him with all their forces in reco-
vering those provinces in the Netherlands, which had anciently belonged to
the crown of Erauce, and kid been so lately reunited to it by the decree of the
parliament of Paris. This unexpected proposition, coming from persons who
Lad it in their power to have performed instantly one part of wfiat they un-
dertook, and who could contribute so effectually towards the execution of the

** Descrittione di tutti Paesi Bassi di Lud. Guicciardiai. Ant. 1571, fol. p. 53.

*« Mdmoires sur la Revolte des Gantois en 1539, par Jean d'Hoflander, Merits en
1547. A la Haye, 1 747. P. Heuter. Rer. Austr. Ub. xi. p. 262. Sandov. Hi.>t. torn.
iL p. 282.

V

290 FRANCIS REJECTS THE REBELS' PROPOSALS. [BOOK VI.

whole, opened great as well as allurinj| prospects to Eraneis's amhiiioii. The
counties of Elanders and Artois were of greater value than the duchy of Milan,
which he had so long laboured to acquire with passionate but fruitless desire ;
their situation with respect to France rendered it more easy to conquer or to
defend them ; and they might be formed into a separate principality for the
dulce of Orleans, no less suitable to his dignity than that which his father
aimed at obtaining. To this, the Flemings, who were acquainted with the
French ma]mers and government, would not have been averse ; and his own
subjects, weary of their destructive expeditions into Italy, would have turned
their arms towards this quarter with more good-will, and with greater vigour.^
Several considerations, nevertheless, prevented Francis from laying hold of
this opportunity, the most favourable in appearance which had ever presented
itself of extending his own dominions or distressing the emperor. From the
time of their interview at Aigues-mortes, Charles had continued to court the
king of France with wonderful attention ; and often flattered him with hopes
of gratifying at last his wishes concermng the Milanese, by granting the in-
vestiture of it either to him or to one of his sons. But though these hopes and
promises were throwTi out v/ith no other intention than to detach him from
his confederacy with the grand sei^^nior, or to raise suspicions in Solyman's
mind by the appearance of a cordial and familiar intercourse subsisting be-
tween the courts of Paris and Madrid, Francis was weak enough to catch at
the shadow by which he had been so often amused, and from eagerness to
seize it, relinquish what must have proved a more substantial acquisition.
Besides this, the dauphin, jealous to excess of his brother, and unwilling
that a prince who seemed to be of a restless and enterprishig nature should
obtain an establishment, which from its situation might be considered almost
as a domestic one, made use of Montmorency, who, by a singular piece of good
fortune, was at the same time the favouiite of the father and of the son, to de-
feat the application of the Flemings, and to divert the king from espousing
their cause. Montmorency, accordingly, represented, in strong terms, the
reputation and power which Francis would acquire by recovering that foot-
ing which he had formerly in Italy, and that nothing could be so efficacious
to overcome the emperor's aversion to this, as a sacred adherence to the
truce, and refusing, on an occasion so inviting, to countenance the rebellious
subjects of his rival. Francis, apt of himself to over-rate the value of the
Milanese, because he estimated it from the length of time as well as from the
great efforts whicli he had employed in order to reconquer it, and fond of
every action which liad the appearance of generosity, assented without diffi-
tultj to sentiments so agreeable to his own, rejected the propositions of the
citizens of Ghent, and dismissed their deputies with a harsh answer.-*"

Not satisfied with this, by a further refinement in generosity, he communi-
cated to the emperor liis whole negotiation with the malecontents, and ail that
he knew of their schemes and intentions.''^ This convincing proof of Francis's
dismterestedness reheved Charles from the most disquieting apprehensions,
and opened a way to extricate himself out of all his difficulties. He had
already received full uilbrmation of all the transactions in the Netherlands, .j
and of the rage with which the people of Ghent had taken arms against his |j
govermnent. He was thoroughly acquainted with the genius and qualities '
of his subjects m that country; with their love of liberty; their attaclunent
to their ancient privileges and customs ; as well as the invincible obstinacy
with which their minds, slow, but firm and persevering, adhered to any
measure on which they had deliberately resolvea. He easily saw what encou-

*7 Mem. de Bellay, p. 263. P. Heuter. Ker. Austr. lib. si. p. 263.
« Sandov. Hist. torn. ii. p. 284.

BOOKVT.] CiiA!iLi.h^> JOURNEY TO THE NETHERLANDS. 291

ragemcnt .-xud support they mij^lit have derived from the assistance of Prance ;
and though now free from any danger in that quarter, he was still sensible
that some immediate as well as vigorous interposition was necessary, in order
to prevent the spirit of disaffection from spreading in a country where the
number of cities, tlie multitude of people, together with the great wealth
ditfused among them by commerce, rendered it pecuharly formidable, and
would supply it with inexhaustible resources. No expedient, after long deli-
beration, appeared to him so efl'ectual as his going iu person to the Nether-
lands ; and the goveniess, his sister, bein^ of the same opinion, Avarmly
solicited him to undertake the journey. There were only two routes which
he could take ; one by land through Italy and Germany, the other entirely
by sea, from some port in Spain to one in the Low Countries. But the
former was more tedious than suited the present exigency of his affairs ; nor
could he, iu consistency with his dignity, or even his safety, pass through
Germany without such a train both of attendants and of troops, as would have
added greatly to the time that he must have consumed m his journey ; the
latter was dangerous at this season, and, while he remained uncertain with
respect to the friendship of the king of England, w^as not to be ventured upon,
unless under the convoy of a powerful fleet. This perplexing situation, in
which he was under the necessity of choosing, and did not know what to
choose, inspired liim at last with the singular and seemingly extravagant
thought of passing through France, a^ the most expeditious way of reaching
the N'etherlands. He proposed in his council to demand Francis's permission
for that purpose. All his counsellors joined with one voice in condemning
the measure as no less rash than unprecedented, and wliich must infallibly
expose him to disgrace or danger ; to disgrace, if the demand were rejected
m the manner that he had reason to expect ; to danger, if he put his person
in the power of an enemy whom he had often ofl'ended, who had ancient in-
jm-ies to revenge, as well as subjects of present contest stUl remaining unde-
cided. But Charles, who had studied the character of his rival Avitli greater
cai-e and more profound discernment than any of his ministers, persisted in his
plan, and flattered himself that it might be accomplished not only without
danger to Ids own person, but even without the expense of any concession de-
trimental to his crown.

With this view, he communicated the matter to the French ambassador at
his court, and sent Granville, his chief minister, to Paris, in order to obtain
from Fnuicis permission to pass through liis dominions, and to promise that
he would soon settle the affair of the Milanese to liis satisfaction. But, at
the same time, he entreated that Francis would not exact any new promise,
or even insist on former engagements, at this juncture, lest whatever he
' ould grant, under his present circumstances, might seem rather to be ex-

rted Dv necessity, than to flow from friendship or the love of justice.

•ancis, mstead of attending to the snare which such a slight artifice scarcely
concealed, was so dazzled with the splendour of overcoming an enemy by
acts of generosity, and so pleased with the air of superiority, which the
"ctitude and disinterestedness of his proceedings gave him on this occasion,

at he at once assented to all that was demanded. Judgmg of the emperor's
lieart by his own, he imagined that the sentiments of gratitude, arising from
the remembrance of good oflices and liberal treatment, would determine him
more forcibly to fulfil what he had so often promised, than the most precise
stipulations that could be inserted in any treaty.

Upon tliis, Charles, to whom every moment was precious, set out, not-
withstanding the fears and suspicions of his Spanish subjects, -with a small
hut splendid train of about a hundred persons. At Bayomie, on the frontiers
of France, he was received by the dauphin and the duke of Orleans, attended

u2

or

I^Br;

CO]

act.

292 CHABLES PASSES THEOUGH FRANCE. [BOOK VI.

by the constable, Montmorency. The two princes offered to go into Spain,
and to remain there as hostages for the emperor's safety ; but this he rejected,
declaring, that he relied with imphcit confidence on the king's honour,
and had never demanded, nor would accept of, any other pledge for his
security. In all tlie towns through which he passed, the greatest possible
magniJEicence was displayed ; the magistrates presented him the keys of the
gates ; the prison doors were set open ; and, by the royal honours paid to
him, he appeared more like the sovereign of the country than a foreign prince.
[1540.] The king advanced as far as Chatelherault to meet him ; their inter-
view was distinguished by the warmest expressions of friendship and regard.
They proceeded together towards Paris, and presented to the mhabitants of
that city the extraordinary spectacle of two rival monarchs, whose enmity had
disturbed and laid waste Europe during twenty years, making their solemn
entry together with all the symptoms of a confidential harmony, as if they
had forgotten for ever past injuries, and would not revive hostilities for the
future.**

Charles remained six days at Paris ; but, amidst the perpetual caresses of
the French court, and the various entertainments contrived to amuse or to
do him honour, he discovered an extreme impatience to continue his journey,
arising as much from an apprehension of danger which constantly haunted
him, as from the necessity of his presence in the Low Countries. Conscious
of the disingenuity of his own intentions, he trembled when he reflected that
some fatal accident might betray him to his rival, or lead him to suspect
them; and, though his artifices to conceal them should be successful, he
could not help fearing that motives of interest might at last triumph over the
scruples of honour, and tempt Erancis to avail himself of the advantage now
in his hands. Nor were there wanting persons among the Prench ministers,
who advised the king to turn his own arts against the emperor, and, as the
retribution due for so many instances of fraud or falsehood, to seize and
detain his person until he granted him full satisfaction with regard to all the
just claims of the Prench crown. But no consideration could induce Prancis
to violate the faith which he had pledged ; nor could any argument convince
him that Charles, after all the promises that he had given, and all the favours
which he had received, might still be capable of deceiving him. Pull of this
false confidence, he accompanied him to St. Quentin ; and the two princes,
who had met him on the borders of Spain, did not take leave of him until he
entered liis dominions in the Low Countries.

As soon as the emperor reached his own territories, the Prench ambassa-
dors demanded the accomplishment of what he had x;romised concerning the
investiture of Milan ; but Charles, under the plausible pretext that his whole
attention was then engrossed by the consultations necessary towards sup-
pressing the rebellion in Ghent, put off the matter for some time. But in
order to prevent Prancis from suspecting his sincerity, he still continued to
talk of his resolutions with respect to that matter in the same strain as
when he entered Prance, and even wrote to the king much to the same pur-
pose, though in general terms, and with equivocal expressions, which he
might afterwards explain away, or interpret at pleasure.^"

Meanwhile, the unfortunate citizens of Ghent, destitute of leaders capable
either of directing their councils or conducting their troops ; abandoned by
the Prench king, and unsupported by their countrymen ; were unable to
resist their offended sovereign, who was ready to advance against them with
one body of troops which he had raised in the Netherlands, with another
drawn out of Germany, and a third which had arrived from Spain by sea.

*9 Thuan. Hist lib. i. c. 14. Mem. de Bellay, p. 264. »« Mem. de Bibier, i. 504.

BOOK VI.] HE BREAKS HIS ENGAGEMENT TO FRANCIS. 898

The near approach of danger made them, at last, so sensible of their own
folly, that they sent ambassadors to the emperor, imploring his mercy, and
offering to set open their gates at his approach. Charles, without vouchsafing
them any other answer, than that he would appear among them as their
sovereign, with the sceptre and the sword in his hand, began his march at
the head of his troops. Thougli he chose to enter the city on the twenty-
fourth of February, his birth-day, he was touched with nothing of that ten-
derness or indulgence which was natural towards the place ot his nativity.
Twenty-six of the principal citizens were put to death ; a greater number
was sent into banishment ; the city was declared to have forfeited all its
privilejjes and immunities ; the revenues belonging to it were confiscated ;
its ancient form of government was abolished ; the nomination of its magis-
trates was vested for the future in the emperor and liis successors ; a new
system of laws and political administration was prescribed ;" and in order to
bridle the seditious spirit of the citizens, orders were given to erect a strong
citadel, for defraying the expense of which a fine of a hundred and fifty
thousand florins was imposed on the inhabitants, together with an annua.
tax of six thousand florins for the support of the garrison." By these rigorous
proceedings, Charles not only punished the citizens of Ghent, out set an awful
example of severity before his other subjects in the Netherlands, whose
immunities and privileges, partly the effect, jpartly the cause of their extensive
commerce, circumscribed tlie prerogative oi their sovereign within very nar-
row bounds, and often stood in the way of measures which he wished to
undertake, or fettered and retarded him in his operati9ns.

Charles having thus vindicated and re-established his authority in the Low
Countries, and being; now under no necessitv of continuing the same scene
of falsehood and dissimulation with which he had long amused Erancis, began
gradually to throw aside the veil under which he had concealed his intentions
with respect to the Milanese. At first, he eluded the demands of the French
ambassaaors, when thev again reminded him of his promises ; then he pro-
posed, by way of equivalent for the duchy of Milan, to grant the duke of Or-
leans the investiture of Flanders, clogging the offer, however, with imprac-
ticable conditions, or such as he knew would be rejected." At last, being
driven from all his evasions and subterfuges by their insisting for a categorical
answer, he peremptorily refused to give up a territory of such value, or volun-
tarily to make such a liberal addition to the strength of an enemy by di-
minishing his own power.^* He denied, at the same time, that he had ever made
any promise which could bind him to an action so foolish, and so contrary to
his own interest."

Of all the transactions in the emjjcror's life, this, without doubt, reflects
the greatest dishonour on his reputation.**' Though Charles was not extremely
scrupulous at other times about the means which he employed for accomplish-
ing his ends, and was not always observant of the strict precepts of veracity
and honour, he had hitherto maintained some regard for the maxims of that
less precise and rigid morality by which monarchs think themselves entitled
to regulate their conduct. But on this occasion, the scheme that he formed
of deceiving a generous and open-hearted prince; the illiberal and mean
artifices by which he carried it on ; the insensibility with which he received
all the marks of his friendship, as well as the ingratitude with which he re-

^» Lcs Coutumes et Loix du Comt^ de Flandres, par Alex, le Grand, 3 torn. fol.
Cambray, 1719, torn. i. p. 169.
" Harsei Annales Brabantiae, vol, L 616.
M 114m. de Ribier, i. 509, 614. m Ibid. 519.

•« mm. de BeUay, 365, 366. »• Jovii Hist. )ib. xxxix. p. 238 a.

294. LOYOLA, FOUNDER OP THE JESUITS. [BOOK VI.

qnited them ; are all equally unbecoming the dignity of liis character, and in-
consistent with the grandeur of Ms views.

This transaction exposed Erancis to as much scorn as it did the emperor to
censure. After the experience of a long reign, after so many opportunities of
discovering the duplicity and artifices of his rival, the credulous simplicity
with which he trusted him at this juncture seemed to merit no other return
tha,n what it actually met with. Francis, however, remonstrated and ex-
claimed, as if tliis had been the first instance in which the emperor had
deceived him. Feeling, as is usual, the insult which was offered to his un-
derstanding still more sensibly than the injury done to his interest, he dis-
covered such resentment as made it obvious that he would lay hold on the
first opportunity of being revenged, and that a war, no less rancorous than
tbat which had so lately raged, would soon break out anew in Europe.

But singular as the transaction which has been related may appear, this
year is rendered stiU more memorable by the establishment o( the order of
Jesuits ; a body whose influence on ecclesiastical as well as civil affairs hath
been so considerable, that an account of the genius of its laws and govern-
ment justly merits a place in history. When men take a view of the rapid
progress of this society towards wealth and power; when they contemplate
the admirable prudence with which it has been governed ; when they attend
to the persevering and systematic spirit with which its schemes have been
carried on ; they are apt to ascribe such a singular institution to the superior
wisdom of its founder, and to suppose that he had formed and digested his
plan with profound policy. But tlie Jesuits, as well as the other monastic
orders, are indebted for the existence of their order, not to the wisdom of their
founder, but to his enthusiasm. Ignatio Loyola, whom I have already men-
tioned on occasion of the wound which he received in defending Pampe-
luna," was a fanatic distinguished by extravagances in sentiment and conduct,
no_ less incompatible with the maxims of sober reason, than repugnant to the
spirit of true religion. The wild adventures, and visionary schemes, in which
hiis enthusiasm engaged him, equal anything recorded in the legends of the
Roman saints ; but are unworthy of notice in history.
_ Prompted by this fanatical spirit, or incited by the love of power and dis-
tinction, from which such pretenders to superior sanctity are not exempt,
Loyola was ambitious of becoming the founder of a religious order. Tiie plan
wJiich he formed of its constitution and laws, was suggested, as he gave out,
and as his followers still teach, by the immediate inspiration of heaven.^ But
notwithstanding this high pretension, his design met at first with violent oppo-
sition. The pope, to whom Loyola had applied for the sanction of his authority
to confirm the institution, refen:ed his petition to a committee of cardinals.
They represented the establishment to be unnecessary as well as dangerous,
and Paul refused to grant his approbation of it. At last, Loyola removed
all his scruples by an ofler which it was impossible for any pope to resist.
He proposed that, besides the three vows of poverty, of chastity, and of
monastic obedience, which are common to all the orders of regulars, the mem-
bers of his society should take a fourth vow of obedience to the pope, bindiag
themselves to go whithersoever he should command for the service of rehgion,
and without requiring anything from the holy see for their support. At a
time when the papal authority had received such a shock by the revolt of so
many nations from the Romish Church; at a time when every part of
the popish system was attacked with so much violence and success, the

57 See book ii. p. 151.

ss Comte rendu des Constitutions des Jesuites au Parlement de Provence, par M. de
Monclar, p. 285.

BOOK VI.] OBJECTS OP TIIE ORDEB, 295

acauisitiou of a body of men, thus peculiarly devoted to the see of Rome,
aiia whom it miglit set in opposition to all its enemies, was an object of the
higiiest C(inso(iucnce. Paul, instantly pevceivin? t his, confirmed liic institu-
tion of the Jesuits by his bull, g-ranted the most ample privileges to the
members of the society; and appointed Loyola to be the first general of the
order. The event hath fully justified Paul's discernment, in expecting such
beneticial consequences to the see of Rome from this institution. In less
than half a century, the society obtained establishments in every country that
adjiercd to the Roman Catholic churcli; its power and wealth increased
amazingly; the number of its members became great; their character as
well as accomplishments were still greater; and the Jesuits were celebrated
by the friends, and dreaded by the enemies of the Romish faith, as the most
able and enterprising order in the church.

The constitution and laws of the society were perfected by Laynez and
Aquaviva, the two generals who succeeded Loyola, — men far superior to
their master in abihties, and in the science of government. They framed that
system of profomid and artful policy which distinguishes the order. The
large infusion of fanaticism, mingled with its regulations, should be imimted
to Loyola its founder. Many circumstances concurred in giving a peculiarity
of character to the order of Jesuits, and in forming the members of it not
only to take a greater part in the affairs of the w^orld than any other body of
monks, but to acquire superior influence in the conduct of them.

The primary object of almost all the monastic orders is to separate men from
the world, and from any concern in its affaks. In the solitude and silence
of the cloister, the monk is called to work out his own salvation by extra-
ordinary acts of mortification and piety. He is dead to the world, and ought
not to mingle in its transactions. He can be of no benefit to manland
but by his example and by his prayers. On the contrary, the Jesuits are taught
to consider themselves as formed for action. They are chosen soldiers, bound
to exert themselves continually in the service oj God, and of the pope, his
vicar on earth. Whatever tends to instruct the ignorant; whatever can be
of use to reclaimer to oppose the enemies of the holy see, is their proper
object. That they may have full leisure for this active service, they are totally
exempted from those functions, the performance of which is the chief
business of other rnonks. They appear in no processions; they practise
no rigorous austerities ; they do not consume one half of their time in the
repetition of tedious otfices.-"'^ But they are requii-ed to attend to all the
transactions of the world, on account of the influence which these may have
upon religion ; they are dii-eeted to study the dispositions of persons in high
rank, and to cultivate their friendship f' and by the very constitution, as well
as genius of the order, a spirit of action and intrigue is infused into all its.
members.

As the object of the society of Jesuits differed from that of the other mo-
nastic orders, the diversity was no less in the form of its goveiinnent. The
other orders are to be oonsidered as voluntary associations, in which what-
ever affects the whole body, is regulated by the common suffrage of all its
members. The executive power is vested in the persons placed at the head
of each convent, or of the whole society ; the legislative authority resides in
the community. Affairs of moment, relatmg to particular convents, are de-
termined in conventual chapters ; such as respect the whole order are con-
sidered in general congregations. But Loyola, full of the ideas of implicit

ib:

Oompte rendu par M. de Monclar, p. xiii. 290. Sur la Destruct. des Jeauitei,
M d'Alembert, p. 42.
«• Compto rendu par M. de Monclar, p. 12.

296 THE general's system of EsriONAGE. [book VI,

obedience, wliicli lie had derived from his military profession, appointed that
the government of his order should be purely monarchical. A general, chosen
for life by deputies from the several provinces, possessed power that was
supreme and independent, extending to every person, and to every case. He,
by his sole authority, nominated provincials, rectors, and every other officer
employed in the government of the society, and could remove them at plea-
sure. In him v/as vested the sovereign administration of the revenues and
funds of the order. Every member belonging to it was at his disposal ; and
by his uncontrollable mandate, he could impose on them any task, or employ
them in what service soever he pleased. To his commands they were requu-ed
not oiily to yield outward obedience, but to resign up to him the inclinations
of their own wills, and the sentiments of then- own understandings. They
were to listen to his injunctions, as if they had been uttered by Christ himself.
Under his direction, they were to be mere passive instruments, like clay in
the hands of the potter, or like dead carcasses, incapable of resistance.*''' Such
a singular form of policy could not fail to impress its character on all the
members of the order, and to give a peculiar force to aR its operations.
There is not in the annals of mankind any example of such a perfect des-
potism, exercised not over monks shut up in the cells of a convent, but over
men dispersed among all the nations of the earth.

As the constitutions of the order vest in the general such absolute dominion
over all its members, they carefully provide for his being perfectly informed
with respect to the character and abilities of his subjects. Every novice who
offers himself as a candidate for entering into the order, is obHged to ma7iifest
his conscience to the superior, or to a person appointed by liim ; and, in doing
this, is required to confess not only his sins and defects, but to discover the
inclinations, the passions, and the bent of his soul. This manifestation must
be renewed every six months.*'- The society, not satisfied with penetrating
in this manner into the innermost recesses of the heart, directs each member
to observe the words and actions of the novices; they are constituted spies
upon their conduct ; and are bound to disclose everything of importance con-
cerning them to the superior. In order that ' this scrutiny into their cha-
racter may be as complete as possible, a long noviciate must expire, during
which they pass through the several gradations of ranks in the society,
and they must have attained the full age of thirty-three years before they
can be admitted to take the final vows, by which they become professed
members.''^ By these various methods, the superiors, under whose immediate
inspection the novices are placed, acquire a thorough knowledge of their
dispositions and talents. In order that the general, who is the soul that ani-
mates and moves the whole societ}^ may have under his eye everj-tliins
necessary to inform or direct him, the provincials and heads of the several
houses are obliged to transmit to him regular and frequent reports concerning
the members imder their inspection. In these they descend into minute
details with respect to the character of each person, his abilities natural or
acquired, his temper, his experience in affairs, and the particular department
for which he is best fitted.®* These reports, when digested and arranged,

61 Compte rendu au Parlem. de Bretagne, par M. de Chalotais, p. 41, &c. Compte
rendu par M. de Monclar, pp. 83, 185, 343.

62 Compte rendu par M. de Monclar. pp. 121, &c.

«3 Ibid. pp. 215, 241. Sur la Destr.'des Jes. par M. d'Alemb. p. 39.

^^ M. de Chalotais has made a calculation of the number of these reports, which the
general of the Jesuits must annually receive according to the regulations of the society.
These amount in all to 6584. If the sum be divided by 37, the number of provinces in
the order, it will appear that 77 reports concerning the state of each province are trans-
mitted to Eome annually. Compte, p. 52. Besides this, there may be extraordinary

lie

BOOK VI.] RAPID EXTENSION OF TUE ORDER. 297

are entered into registers kept on purpose, that the general may, at one
comprcliensive view, survey the state ot the society in every comer of the
cartli ; observe the qualilications and talents of its members ; and thus choose,
with perfect information, the instruments which his absolute power can em-
ploy m any service for which he thinks meet to destine them.^*

As it was the professed intention of the order of Jesuits to labour with un-
wearied zeal in promoting the salvation of men, this engaged them, of
course, in many active functions. From their first institution, they considered
the education of youth as their peculiar province; they aimed at being
spiritual guides and confessors; they preaclied frequently in order to in-
struct the people ; they set out as missionaries to convert unbelieving nations.
The novelty of the institution, as well as the singularity of its objects, pro-
cured the order many admirers and patrons. The governors of the society liad
the address to avail themselves of every circumstance in its favour, and in
a siiort time the number as well as influence of its members increased
wonderfully. Before the expiration of the sixteenth century, the Jesuits
had obtained the chief direction of the education of youth in every catholic
country in Europe. They had become the confessors of almost all its mo-
narchs, — a function of no small importance in any reign, but, under a weak
prince, superior even to that of minister. They were the spiritual guides
of almost every person eminent for rank or power. They possessed the highest
degree of conlidencc and interest with the papal court, as the most zealous
and able champions for its authority. The advantages which an active and
enterprising body of men might derive from aU these circumstances are ob-
vious. They formed the minds of men in their youth. They retained an
ascendant over them in their advanced years. They possessed, at different
periods, the direction of the most considerable courts in Europe. They
mingled in all affairs. They took part in every intrigue and revolution. The
general, by means of the extensive intelligence which he received, could re-
gulate the operations of the order with the most perfect discernment, and, by
means of his absolute power, could carry them on with the utmost vigour
and effect.*

Together with the power of the order, its wealth continued to increase.
Various expedients were devised for eluding the obligation of the vow of
poverty. The order acquired ample possessions in every catholic country; and

letters, or such as are sent by the monitors or spies whom the general and provincials
entertain in each house. Compte par M. de Moncl. p. 431. Hist des Jesuites, Amst.
1761, torn. iv. p. 66. The provincials and heads of nouses not only report concerning
the members of the society, but are bound to give the general an account of the civil
affairs in the country wherein tliey are settled, as far as their knowledge of these may
be of benefit to religion. This condition may extend to every particular, so that the
general is furnished with full information concerning the transactions of every prince and
state in the world. Compte par M. de Moncl. p. 443. Hisl. des Jesuites^ ibid, p- 58.
When the affairs with respect to which the provincials or rectors write are of importance,
they are directed to use ciphers ; and each of them has a particular cipher from the
general. Compte par M. de Chalotais, p. 54.

" Compte rendu par M. de Moncl. pp. 215, 439. Compte rendu par M. de Chalotais,
pp. 52. 222.

^ When Loyola, in the year 1540, petitioned the pope to authorize the institution of
e order, he had only ten disciples. But in the year 1608, sixty-eight years after its first
stitution, the number of Jesuits had increased to ten thousand five hundred and eighty-
one. In the year 1710, the order possessed twenty-i'our professed houses; fifty-nine
houses of probation; three hundred and forty residences; six hundred and twelve colleges;
two hundred missions; one hundred and fifty seminaries and boai-ding-»chools; and c«i'«
sisted of 19,998 Jesuits. Hist, des Jesuites, torn. i. p. 20.

■

298 ITS PERNICIOUS EFFECTS OX CIVIL KOCIETi". [BOOK VI.

by the number as well as magnificence of its public buildings, together with the
value of its property, moveable or real, it vied with the most opulent of the mo-
nastic fraternities. Besides the sources of wealth common to all the regular
clergy, the Jesuits possessed one which was peculiar to themselves. IJnder
pretext of promoting the success of tlieir missions, and of facilitating the
support of their missionaries, they obtained a special license from the court
of Kome to trade with the nations which they laboured to convert. In con-
sequence of this, they engaged in an extensive and lucrative commerce, both
in the East and West Indies. They opened warehouses in different parts of
Europe, in which they vended then- commodities. Not satisfied with trade
alone, they imitated the example of other commercial societies, and aimed at
obtainmg settlements. They acquired possession, accordingly, of a large and
fertile province in the southern continent of America, and reigned as sove-
reims over some hundred thousand subjects. ^^

Unhappily, for mankind, the vast influence which the order of Jesuits ac-
quired by^all these different means, has been often exerted with the most per-
nicious effect. _ Such was the tendency of that discipline observed by the
society in forming its members, and such the fundamental maxims in its"^ con-
stitution, that every Jesuit was taught to regard the interest of the order as
the capital object, to which every consideration was to be sacrified. This
spirit of attachment to their order, the most ardent, perhaps, that ever mflu-
enced any body of men,^^ is the characteristic principle of the Jesuits, and serves
as a key to the genius of then- policy, as well as to the peculiarities in their
sentiments and conduct.

As it was for the honour and advantage of the society, that its members
should possess an ascendant over persons in high rank or of great power, the
desire of acquiring and preserving such a direction of their conduct, with
greater facihty, has led the Jesuits to propagate a system of relaxed and pliant
morality, which accommodates itself to the passions of men, which justifies
their vices, which tolerates their imperfections, which authorizes almost every
action that the most audacious or crafty politician v/ould wish to perpetrate.
_ As the prosperity of the order was intimately connected w^ith the preserva-
tion of the papal authority, the Jesuits, influenced by the same principle of
attachment to the interests of their society, have been the most zealous
patrons of those doctrines which tend to exalt ecclesiastical power on the
ruins of civil government. They have attributed to the court of Rome a
jurisdiction as extensive and absolute as was claimed by the most presump-
tuous pontiffs in the dark ages. They have contended 'for the entire inde-
pendence of ecclesiastics on the civil magistrate. They have published such
tenets concerning the duty of opposing princes who were enemies of the
catholic faith, as countenanced the most atrocious crimes, and tended to dis-
solve all the ties which connect subjects wdth their rulers.

As the order derived both reputation and authority from the zeal w^th
which it stood forth in defence of the Romish church agamst the attacks of
thereformers, its members, proud of this distinction, have considered it as
their peculiar function to combat the opinions, and to check the progress, of
the protestants. They have made use of every art, and have employed every
weapon against them. They have set themselves in opposition to every gentle
or tolerating measure iu their favour. They have incessantly stirred up
against them all the rag-e of ecclesiastical and civil persecution.

Monks of other denominations have, indeed, ventured to teach the same
pernicious doctrines, and have held opinions equally inconsistent with the

«^ Hist, des Jesuites, iv. pp. 168—196, &c.
^ Compte rendu par M de Moncl. i> 285.

BOOK VI.] THE JESUITS IN rAEAGUAT. 299

order and happiness of civil society. But tliey, from reasons wliicli are ob-
vious, liavc either delivered such opinions with greater reserve, or have pro-
{)agatcd them with less success. vVhoever recoUccts the events which have
lui'ipencd in Europe duriii-^ two centuries, vv-ill lind that the Jesuits may justly

be considered iis responsible for most of the pernicious eilects arising from
that cormpt juid dangerous casuistry, from those extravagant tenets concern-
ing ecclesiastical power, and from tliat intolerant spirit, which have been the
disgrace of the cliuich of ilonie througiiout that period, and which have
brought so many calamities upon civil society.®''

13ut amidst many bad conseciuences flowing from the institution of this
order, mankind, it must be acknowlcdj^ed, have derived from it some consider-
able advantages. As the Jesuits made the education of youth one of their
capital objects, and as their iirst attempts to establish colleges for the re-
ception of students were violently opposed by the universities in different
countries, it became necessary for tliem, as the most effectual method of ac-
quiring the public favour, to surpass their rivals in science and industry.
This prompted them to cultivate the study of ancient Hterature with extra-
ordinary ardoui'. This put them upon various methods for facihtating the
instruction of youth ; and by the improvements which they made in it, they
have contributed so much towards the progress of polite learning, that on this
account they have merited well of society. Nor has the order of jesiuts been
successful only in teaching the elements of literature ; it has produced like-
wise eminent masters ni many branches of science, and can alone boast of a
greater number of ingenious authors, than all the other rehgious fraternities
taken together.'^

Eut it is in the New World that the Jesuits have exhibited the most won-
derful display of their abilities, and have contributed most elTectually to the
beneht of the human species. The conquerors of that unfortunate quarter of
the globe acted at hrst as if they had nothing in view but to plunder, to en-
slave, and to extermhiatc its inliabitants. The jesidts alone made humanity
the object of their settling there. About the beginning of the last century
they obtained admission int o the fertile province of Paraguay, which stretches
across the southern continent of America, from the east side of the immense
ridge of the Andes, to the confines, of the Spanish and Portuguese settle-
ments on the banks of the river de la Plata. Tiiey found the inhabitants in a
state little different from that which takes place among men when they iirst
begin to uuile together; strangers to the arts; subsisting precariously by
hunting or fishing ; and hardly acquiiinted with the first prmciples of subor-

•8 Encyclopedic, art. JesuUes, torn. viii. 513.

^0 M. d'Alembert has ob-served, that tliough the Jesuits have made extraordinary pro-
gress in erudition of every .species; though they can reckon up many of their bretlaren
who have bten eminent mathematicians, antiquaries, and critics; though they have eveu
formed some orators of reputation ; yet the order has never produced one man, whose
mind was so much enlightened with sound knowledge, as to merit the name of a philo-
sopher. But it seems to be the unavoidable effect of monastic education to contract and
fetter the human mind. The partial attachment of a monk to the interests of his order,
which is often incompatible with tliat of other citizens; the habit of implicit obedience to
Ihe will of a superior, together witii tiie frequent return of the wearisome and frivolous
iiuties of the cloister, deba.se his faculties, and extinguish that generosity of sentiment
and spirit which quahties men for tliinking or feeling justly with respect to what is proper
in lite and conduct. Father Paul of Venice is, perliaps, the only person educated in a
cloister that ever was altogether superior to its prejudices, or who viewed the transactions
of men, and reasoned concerning tlie interests of society, with the enlarged sentiments of
a philosopher, with the discernment of a man conversant in affairs, and with the liberality
of a gentleman.

300 AMBITION AND POLICY OF TIIE OKDER. [BOOK VI.

dination and government. The Jesuits set themselves to instruct and to
civilize these savages. They taught them to cultivate the ground, to rear
tame animals, and to build houses. They brought them to live together in
tillages. They trained them to arts and manufactures. They made them
taste the sweets of society, and accustomed them to the blessings of security
and order. These people became the subjects of their benefactors, who have

governed them with a tender attention, resembling that with which a father
irects his children. Respected and beloved almost to adoration, a few Jesuits
presided over some hundred thousand Indians. They maintamed a perfect
equality among all the members of the community. Each of them was obliged
to labour, not for himself alone, but for the public. The produce of their fields,
together with the fruits of their industry of every species, was deposited in
common storehouses, from which each individual received everything neces-
sary for the supply of his wants ; by this institution, almost all the passions
which disturb the peace of society, and render the members of it unhappy,
were extinguished. A few magistrates, chosen from among their countrymen,
by the Indians themselves, watched over the public tranquillity, and secui'ed
obedience to the laws. The sanguinary punishments frequent under other
governments were unknown. An admonition from a Jesuit ; a slight mark
of infamy ; or, _ on some siagular occasion, a few lashes with a wliip, were
sufficient to maintain good order among these innocent and happy people.^'

Eut even in this meritorious effort of the Jesuits for the good of mankind,
the genius and spirit of their order have mmgled and are discernible. They
plamly aimed at establishing in Paraguay an independent empire, subject to
the society alone^ and which, by the superior excellence of its constitution
and police, could scarcely have failed to extend its dominions over all the
southern continent of America. With this view, in order to prevent the
Spaniards or Portuguese in the adjacent settlements from acquiring any
dangerous influence over the people witliin the limits of the province subject
to the society, the Jesuits endeavoured to inspire the Indians with hatred and
contempt of these nations. They cut off all intercourse between their sub-
jects and the Spanish or Portuguese settlements. They prohibited any private
trader of either nation from entering their territories. When they were
obliged to admit any person in a public character from the neighbouring
governments, they did not permit him to have any conversation with their
subjects ; and no Indian was allowed even to enter the house where these
strangers resided, unless in the presence of a Jesuit. In order to render any
communication between them as difficult as possible, they iudustriously
avoided giving the Indians any knowledge of the Spanish, or of any other
European language; but encouraged the different tribes, which they had
civilized, to acquire a certain dialect of the Indian tongue, and laboured to
make that the universal language throughout their dominions. As all these
precautions, without military force, would have been insufficient to have ren-
dered their empire secure and permanent, thej^ instructed their subjects in
the European arts of war. They formed them into bodies of cavalry and in-
fantry, completely armed, and regularly disciplined. They provided a great
^ain of artiUery, as well as magazines stored with all the ipaplements of war.
Thus they established an army so numerous and well appointed, as to be for-
midable in a country where a few sicklv and iU-disciplmed battalions com-
posed aU the roilitary force kept on foot by the Spaniards or Portuguese.'"

^1 Hist, du Paraguay par le P^re de Charlevoix, torn. ii. p. 42, &c. Yoyc^ge an Perou
par Don G. Juan et D. Ant. de TJlloa, torn. i. p. 640, &c. Par. 4to. 1752.

"2 Voyage de Juan et de Ulloa, torn. i. p. 549. Kecueil de toutes les Piters qui ont
paru sur les Affaires des J^suites en Portugal, torn, i. p. 7, &c.

I

BOOK VI. J SECiUiCY Of lllE. 5GC1ET1' S ILULES. 301

The Jesuits gained no considerable degree of power dui-in^ the reign of
Chuiies v., who, with his usual sagacity, discerned the dangerous tendency
of the institution, and checked its urogrcss.'^ But as the order was founded
hi the period of which I write the history, and as the a^e to wliich 1 address
this work hath seen its fall, the view which 1 have exhibited of the laws and
genius of this formidable body, will not, I hope, be unacceptable to ray
readers; especially as one circumstance has enabled me to enter into this
detail with particular advantage. Europe had observed, for two centuries,^
the ambition and power of the order. But while it felt many fatal ellccts of
these, it could not fully discera the causes to which they were to be imputed.
It was unacquainted with maiiv of the singular regulations in the political
constitution or government of the Jesuits, wliich fonned the enterprising spirit
of intrigue that distinguished its members, and elevated the body itself to
such a height of power. It was a fundamental maxun with the Jesuits, from
their first institution, not to publish the rules of their order. These they
kept concealed as an impenetrable mystery. They never communicated
them to strangers, nor even to the greater part of their own members.
They refused to produce them when required by courts of justice ;'* and, by a
strange solecism in policy, the civil power in diiferent countries authorized or
connived at the establishment of an order of men, whose constitution and
laws were concealed with a solicitude wliich alone was a good reason for
excluding them. During the prosecutions lately carried on against them in
Portugal and Erance, the Jesuits have been so inconsiderate as to produce
the mysterious volumes of their institute. Bv the aid of these authentic
records, the principles of their government may be dcHneated, and the sources
of their power investigated with a degree of certainty and precision, which,
previous to that event, it was impossible to attain.'^ But as I have pointed
out the dangerous tendency of the constitution and spirit of the order with
the freedom Dccoming an historian, the candour and impartiality no less re-
quisite in that character call on me to add one observation, — that no class of
regular clergy in the llomish church has been more eminent for decency, and
even purity of manners, than the major part of the order of Jesuits."® The
maxims of an intriguing, ambitious, interested poUey might influence those
who governed the society, and might even corrupt the heart, and pervert the
conduct of some individuals, while the greater number, engaged in literary
pursuits, or employed in the functions of religion, was left to the guidance
of those common principles which restrain men from vice, and excite them
to what is becoming and laudable. The causes wluch occasioned the rum of
this mighty body, as well as the circumstances and effects with which it has
been attended inHhe different countries of Europe, though objects extremely
worthy the attention of every intelligent observer of human alYaii's, do not
fall within the period of this mstory.

No sooner had Charles re-established order in the Low Countries, than he
was obhg«d to turn his attention to the affairs in Germany. The protestants

Compte rendu par M. de Moncl. p. 312.

'•* Hist, des Jesuites, torn. iii. p. 23G, &.c. Compte rendu par M. de Clialot. p. 38.

'•> The greater part of my intorraation, concerning the government and laws of the
Older of Jesuits, I have derived from the reports of M. de Chalotais and M. de !Monclar.
I rest not my narrative, however, upon the authority even of these respectable magistrates
jfcid elegant writers, but upon innumerable passages which they have extracted from tho
constitutions of the order, deposited in their hands. Hospinian, a protestant divine of
Zurich, in his Ilistoria JesuUica, printed a.d. 1619, publislied a small part of the con-
stitutions of the Jesuits, of which by some accident he had got a copy ; pp. 13 — 54.

J« Sur la Destruct. des J^uites, par M. d'Aleinbert, p. 55.

302 CONFERENCES OF DIVINES [BOOK VI.

pressed Mm earnestly to appoint that conference between a select number of
the divines of each party, which had been stipulated in the convention at
Francfort. The pope considered such an attempt to examine into t le points
in dispute, or to decide concerning them as derogatory to his right of being
the supreme judge in controversy; and being convinced that sucli a con-
ference would either be ineiFectual by determining nothing, or prove danger-
ous by determining too much, he employed every art to prevent it. The em-
peror, however, finding it more for his interest to soothe the Gennaus than
to gratify Paul, paid little regard to his remonstrances. In a diet held at
Ha^uenau, matters were ripened for the conference. In another diet assem-
bled [it "^'^orms, the conference was begun, Melancthon on the one side and
Eckius on the other, sustaining the principal part in the dispute ; but after
they had made some progress, though without concluding anything, it was
suspended by the emperor's command, that it might be renewed with greater
solemnity in his own presence in a diet summoned to meet him at Ratisbon.
This assembly was opened with great pomp, and with a general expectation
that its proceedings would be vigorous and decisive. By the consent of both
parties, the emperor was intrusted with the power of nominating the persons
who_ should manage the conference, which it was agreed should be conducted
not in the form of a public disputation, but as a friendly scrutiny or examina-
tion into the articles which had given rise to the present controversies. He
appointed Eckius, Gropper, and Pfliig, on the part of the cathohcs ; Melanc-
thon, Bucer, and Pistorius, on that of the protestants ; all men of _ distin-
guished reputation among their own adherents, and, except Eckius, all
eminent for moderation, as well as desirous of peace. As they were about
to begin their consultations, the emperor put into their hands a book, com-
posed, as he said, by a learned divine in the Low Countries, with such extra-
ordinary perspicuity and temper, as, in his opinion, might go far to unite and
comprehend the two contending parties. Gropper, a canon of Cologne, whom
he had named among the managers of the conference, a man of address as
well as of erudition, was afterwards suspected to be the author of this short
treatise. It contained positions with regard to twenty-two of the chief arti-
cles in theology, which included most of the questions then agitated in the
controversy between the Lutherans and the church of Rome. By ranging liis
sentiments' in a natural order, and expressing them with great simplicity ; by
employing often the very words of Scripture, or of the primitive fathers ; by
softening the rigour of some opinions, and explaining away what was absurd
in others ; by concessions, sometimes on one side, and sometimes on the other ;
and especially by banishing as much as possible scholastic phrases, those
words and terms of art in controversy, which serve as badges of distinction to
different sects, and for which theologians often contend more fiercely than
for opinions themselves ; he at last framed his work in such a manner, as
promised fairer than anything that had hitherto been attempted, to compose
and to terminate religious dissensions."'

But the attention of the age was turned, with such acute observation, to-
wards theological controversies, that it was not easy to impose on it by any
gloss, how artful or specious soever. The length and eagerness of the dispute
had separated the contending parties so completely, and had set their mmds
at such variance, that they were not to be reconciled by partial concessions.
All the zealous catholics, particularly the ecclesiastics who had a seat m the
diet, joined in condemnuig Gropper' s treatise as too favourable to the Lu-
theran opinion, the poison of which heresy it conveyed, as they pretended,
with greater danger, because it was in some degree disguised. The rigid

" Goldast. Constit. Imper. ii. p. 182.

BOOK VI.] AT WORMS AND RATISBON. U03

protestants^ especially Luther himself, and his patron the elector of Saxony,
were for rejecting it as an impious componnd or error and truth, craftily pre-
pared that it iniarlit impose on the weak, the timid, and the nrthir^ing. Bv*-
the divines, to whom the examination of it was coinmiited, entered upon that
business with greater deliberation and temper. A; it was luor"- ea*:;.' xA itself,
as well as more consistent with the dignity of the ctmrch, to make concessions,
aiui even alterations with regard to specidative opinions, the discussion whereoi
is confined chiefly to schools, and which present nothing to the people that
ritlicr strikes their imagination or affects their senses, they came to an ac-
inunniodation about these without much labour, and even* defined the great
nriiclc concerning justification to tlieir mutual satisfaction. But, whenlhey
proceeded to pomts of jurisdiction, where the interest and authority of the
llomau see were concerned, or to the rites and forms of external worship,
will' re every change that could be made must be public, and draw the ob-
servation of the people, there the catholics were altogether untractable; nor
could the church, eiLlier Avith safety or with honour, abolish its ancient insti-
tutions. All the articles relative to the power of the pope, the authority- of
councils, the administration of the sacraments, the worship of saints, and
manv other particulars, did not, in their nature, admit of any temperament ;
so that, after labouring long to bring about an accommodation with respect
to these, the emperor found all his endeavours ineflectual. Being impatient,
however, to close the diet, he at last prevailed on the majority of the member's
to approve of the following recess : " That the articles concerning which the
divmes had agr-eed in the conference, should be held as points decided, and
be obsers-ed inviolably by all ; that the other articles about which they had
differed, shoidd be referred to the determination of a general council, or, if
that could not be obtained, to a national synod of Germany ; and if it should
prove impracticable, likewise, to assemble a syrrod, that a general diet of the
empire should be called \^ithin eighteen months, in order to give some tinal
judgment upon the controversy ; that the emperor should use all his interest
and authority with the pope, to procure the meeting either of a general
council or synod ; that, in the meantime, no innovations should be attempted,
no endeavours should be employed to gain proselytes ; and neither the i"eve-
nuos of the church, nor the rights of monasteries,' should be invaded."'*

All the proceedings of this diet, as well as the recess in which they termi-
nal ed, gave gi'cat olleuee to the pope. The power which the Germans had
assumed of appointing their own divines to examine and determine matters of
controversy, he considered as a very dangerous invasion of his rights; the
renewing of their ancient proposal concerning a national synod, which had
been so often rejected by him and his predecessors, appeared extremely un-
dutiful ; but fhe bare mention of allowing a diet, composed chiefly of lajmen,
to pass judgment with respect to articles of faith, was deemed no less criminal
and profane, than the worst of those heresies which they seemed zealous to
suppress. On the other hand, the protestants were no less dissatisfied with
a recess that considerably abridged the liberty which thev enjoyed at that
time. As they murmru-ed loudly against it, Charles, unwilling to leave any
seeds of discontent in the empire, granted them a private declar-ation in the
most ample tenns, exempting them from whatever tliey thought oppressive or

iijurious in the recess, and ascertaiiring to them the full possession of all the
rivileges which they had ever enjoyed. '^
Extraordinarj' as these concessions may appear, the situation of the em-
eror's aflaii-s at this juncture made it necessary for him to grant them. He

Sleicl p. 267, &c. Pallav. lib. iv. c. 11, p. 136. F. Paul, p. 86. Seckend. lib. iii. p. 256.
'» Sleid. p. 283. Seckend. ; . 866. Duinont, Corps Diplom. iv. p. ii. p. 210.

304 THE ArrAiiis of huxgaiiy. [book ^'J.

foresaw a rupture witli rrance to be not only unavoidable but near at hand,
and durst not give any such cause of disgust or fear to the protestants,
as might force them, in self-defence, to court the protection of the Prench
king, from whom, at present, they were much alienated. The rapid pro-
gress of the Turks in Hungary was a more powerful and urgent motive to
that moderation wliich Charles discovered. A great revolution had liap-
pened in that kingdom ; John Zapol_ Sccepus having choseli, as has been re-
lated, rather to possess a tributary kingdom, than to renounce the royal dig-
nity to which he had been accustomed, had, by the assistance of his mighty
{)rotector Solyman, wrested from Eerdinand a great part of the country, and
eft him only the precarious possession of the rest. But being a prince of
pacific qualities, the frequent attempts of Ferdinand, or of Ins partisans
among the Hungarians, to recover what they had lost, greatly disquieted liim ;
and the necessity, on these occasions, of calling in the Turks, whom he con-
sidered _ and felt to be his masters, rather than auxiliaries, was hardly less
mortifying. In order, therefore, to avoid these distresses, as weU as to secure
quiet and leisure for cultivating the arts and enjoying amusements in which
he delighted, he secretly came to an agreement with his competitor on this
condition : that Eerdinand should acknov/ledge him as king of Hungary, and
leave him, during life, the unmolested possession of that part of the kingdoaa
now in his power ; but that, upon his demise, the sole right of the whole
should devolve upon Eerdinand.**" As John had never been married, and was
then far advanced in life, the terms of the contract seemed very favourable
to Eerdinand. But, soon after, some of the Hungarian nobles, solicitous to
prevent a foreigner from ascending their throne, prevailed on John to put an
end to a long celibacy, by marrying Isabella, the daughter of Sigismund.
king of Poland. John had the satisfaction before his death, which happened
within less than a year after his marriage, to see a son bom to inherit his
kingdom. To him, without regardiag his treaty with Eerdinand, which ho
considered, no doubt, as void upon an event not foreseen when it was con-
cluded, he bequeathed his crown ; appointing the queen and George Mar-
tinuzzi, bishop of Waradin, guardians of his son, and regents of the kingdom.
The greater part of the Hungarians immediately acknowledged the young
prince as king, to whom, in memory of the founder of their monarchy, they
gave the name of Stephen.^^

Eerdinand, though extremely disconcerted by this unexpected event, re-
solved not to abandon the kingdom which he flattered himself with ha\dng
acquired by his compact with John. He sent ambassadors to the queen to
ckim possession, ana to offer the province of Transylvania as a settlement for
her son, preparing, at the same time, to assert his right by force of arms. But
John had committed the care of his son to persons who had t?)0 much spirit
to give up the crown tamely, and who possessed abilities sufficient to defend
it. The queen, to all the address peculiar to her own. sex, added a masculine
courage, ambition, and magnanimity. Martinuzzi, who had raised Mmself
from the lowest rank in life to his present dignity, was one of those extra-
ordinary men, who, by the extent as well as variety of their talents, are fitted
to act a superior part in bustling and factious times. In discharging the
functions of his ecclesiastical office, he put on the semblance of an humble
and austere sanctity. In civil transactions, he discovered industiy, dex-
terity, and boldness. During war he laid aside the cassock, and appeared
on horseback with his scimitar and buckler, as active, as ostentatious, and as
gailant as any of his countrymen. Amidst aJl these diiterent and contradictory

«• Istuanhaffii Hist Hung. lib. xii. p. 135.
»» Jovii Hist, lib. xxxLs. p, 239 a, &c.

BOOK VI,] SOLYMAN SEIZES THE KINGDOM. 306

forms which he could assume, an insatiable desire of dominion and authority
was conspicuous. From such persons it was obvious what answer Ferdinana
had to expect. He soon perceived that he must depend on arms alone for re-
covering? Hungary. Havmg levied for this purpose a considerable body of
Germans, whom his partisans among the Hunganans joined with their vassals,
he ordered them to march into that part of the kingdom which adhered to
Stephen. Martinuzzi, unable to make head against such a powerful army in
the field, satisfied himself with holding out the towns, all of which, especially
Buda, the place of greatest consequence, he provided with everything neces-
sary for defence ; and, in tlie meantime, he sent ambassadors to Solyman,
beseeching him to extend towards the son the same imperial protection which
had so lon^ maintained the father on his throne. The sultan, though Ferdi-
nand used his utmost endeavours to thwart this negotiation^ and even offered
to accept of the Hungarian crown on the same ignomimous condition of
paying tribute to the Ottoman Porte, by which Jolm had held it, saw such
prospects of advantage from espousing the interests of the young king, that he
mstantly promised him his protection; and commanding one army to ad-
vance forthwith towards Hungary, he himself followed with another. Mean-
while, the Germans, hoping to terminate the war by the reduction of a city in
which the king and his mother were shut up, had formed the siege of Buda.
Martinuzzi, having drawn thither the strength of the Hungarian nobility, de-
fended the town with such courage and skill, as allowed the Turkish forces
time to come up to its relief. They instantly attacked the Germans, weakened
by fatigue, diseases, and desertion, and defeated them with great slaughter.^^

Solyman soon after joined liis victorious troops, and being weary of so many
expensive expeditions undertaken in defence of dominions which were not
his own, or being unable to resist this alluring opportunity of seizing a
kingdom, wliile possessed by an infant under the guardianship of a woman
and a priest, he allowed interested considerations to triumph with too much
facility over the principles of honour and the sentiments of numanity. What
he planned ungenerously he obtained by fraud. Having prevailed on the
queen to send ner son, whom he pretended to be desirous ot seeing, into his
camp, and having, at the same time, invited the chief of the nobility to an
entertainment there, while they, suspecting no treachery, gave themselves up
to the mirth and jollity of the feast, a select band of troops, by the sultan's
orders, seized one of the gates of Buda. Being thus master of the capital, of
the king's person, and of the leading men amongthe nobles, he gave orders to
conduct the queen, together with her son, to Transylvania, which province
he allotted to them, and appointing a basha to preside in Buda with a large
body of soldiers, annexed Hungary to the Ottoman empire. The tears and
complaints of the unhappy queen had no influence to chauM his purpose,
nor could Martinuzzi either resist his absolute and uncontrollable command,
tr prevaQ on him to recal it.^

Before the account of this violent usurpation reached Ferdinand, he was so
unlucky as to have despatched other ambassadors to Solyman, with a fresh
representation of his right to the crown of Hungary, as well as a renewal
of his former overture to hold the kingdom of the Ottoman Porte, and to pay
for it an annual tribute. This ill-timed proposal was rejected with scorn.
The sultan, elated vrith success, and thinking that he might prescribe what
terms he pleased to a prince who voluntarily proffered conditions so unbe-
coming his own dignity, declared that he would not suspend the operations
of war, unless Ferdinand instantly evacuated all the towns which lie still

•' Istuanhaffii Hist. Hang. lib. xiv. p. 150.
•» Ibid. p. 6G. Jovii Hist. lib. xxxix. p. 2476,

X

J06 CHABLES'S EXPEDITION AGAINST ALGIERS. [BOOK VI.

held in Hungary, and consented to the imposition of a tribute upon Austria,
in order to reimburse the sums which his presumptuous invasion of Hun-
gary had obliged the Ottoman Porte to expend in defence of that kingdom.*'*
In this state were the affairs of Hungary. As the unfortunate events there
had either happened before the dissolution of the diet of Katisbon, or were
dreaded at that time, Charles saw the danger of irritating and inflaming the
minds of the Germans, while a formidable enemy was ready to break into the
empire ; and perceived that he could not expect any vigorous assistance either
towards the recovery of Hungary or the defence of the Austrian frontier, un-
less he courted and satisfied the protestants. By the concessions which have
been mentioned, he gained this point, and such liberal supplies, both of men
and money, were voted ,for carrying on the war against the Turks, as left
hmi under little anxiety about the security of Germany during the next
carapaign.85

Immediately upon the conclusion of the diet, the emperor set out for Italy.
As he passed through Lucca, he had a short intercourse with the pope ; but
nothing could be concluded concerning the proper method of composing'
the religious disputes in Germany, between two princes whose views and
interests with regard to that matter were at this juncture so opposite. The
pope's endeavours to remove the causes of discord between Charles and
Erancis, and to extinguish those mutual animosities which threatened to break
out suddenly into open hostility, were not more successful.

The emperor's thoughts were bent so entirelj^, at that time, on the great
enterprise which he had concerted against Algiers, that he listened with little
attention to the pope's schemes or overtures, and hastened to join his army
and fleet.**"'

iVlgiers still continued in that state of dependence on the Turkish emphe to
which Barbarossa had subjected it. Ever since he, as captain basha, com-
manded the Ottoman fleet, Algiers had been governed by _Hascen-Aga, a
renegado eunuch, who, by passing through every station in the corsair's
service, had acquired such experience in war, that he was well fitted for a
station which required a man of tried and daring courage. _ Hascen, in order
to show how well he deserved that dignity, carried on his piratical depre-
dations against the Christian states with amazing activity, and outdid, if
possible, Barbarossa himself in boldness and cruelty. The commerce of the
Mediterranean was greatly interrupted by his cruisers, and such frequent
alarms given to the coast of Spain, that there was a necessity of erecting
watch-towers at proper distances, and of keeping guards constantly on foot,
in order to descry the approach of his squadrons, and to protect the inha-
bitants from their descents.*^ Of this the emperor had received repeated
and clamorous complaints from his subjects, who represented it as an enter-
prise corresponding to his power, and becoming his humanity, to reduce
Algiers, which, since the conquest of Tunis, was the common receptacle
of all the freebooters ; and to extermmate that lawless race, the implacable
enemies of the Christian name. Moved partly by their entreaties, and partly
allured by the hope of adding to the glory which he had acquired by his last
expedition into Airica, Charles, before he left Madrid, in his way to the Low
Countries, had issued orders, both in Spain and Italy, to prepare a fleet and
army for tliis purpose. No change in circumstances, since that time, could
divert him from this resolution, or prevail on him to turn his arms towards
Hungary ; though the success of the Turks in that country seemed more
immediately to require his presence there ; though many of his most faithful
adherents in Germany urged that the defence of the empire ought to be his

8* Istuannairii Hist. Hnng. lib. 2dv. p. lo8. " Sleid. p. 283.

»« Sandov. Hist. torn. ii. p. 298, "^ Jovii Hist. lib. xl. p. 266.

BOOK VI.] HE LANDS IN APRICA. 307

first and peculiar care ; though such as bore him no good-will ridiculed his pre-
posterous conduct in flying from an enemy almost at liand, that he might go
m quest of a remote ana more ignoble foe. But to attack the sultan in Hun-
gary, how splendid soever tliat measure might appear, was an undertaking
which exceeded his power, and was not consistent with his interest. To draw
troops out of Spain or Italy, to march them into a country so distant as Hun-
gary, to provide the vast apparatus necessary for transporting thither the
artiller}-, ammunition, and baggage of a regular army, and to push the war
in that quarter, where there was little prospect of bringing it to an issue
during several campaips, were undertakings so expensive and unwieldy as did
not correspond with the low condition of the emperor's treasury. While his
principal force was thus employed, his dominions in Italy and the Low Countries
must have lain open to the French king, who would not have allowed such a
favourable opportunity of attacking them to go unimproved. Whereas the
African expedition, the preparations for which were already finished, and al-
most the whole expense of it defrayed, would depend upon a single effort;
and, besides the security and satisfaction which the success of it must give
his subjects, would detain him during so short a space, that Francis could
hardly take advantage of his absence, to invade his dominions in Europe.

On all these accounts, Charles adhered to his first plan, and with such de-
termined obstinacy, that he paid no regard to the pope, who advised, or to
Andrew Doria, who conjured him not to expose liis whole armament to almost
unavoidable destniction, by venturing to approach the dangerous coast of
Algiers at such an advanced season of the year, and when the autumnal winds
were so violent. Having embarked on board Doria' s galleys at Porto-Yenere,
in the Genoese territories, he soon found that this experienced sailor had not
judged wrong concerning the element with which he was so well acquainted ;
for such a storm arose, that it was with the utmost difficulty and danger
he reache<l Sardinia, the place of general rendezvous. But as his courage was
undaunted, and his temper often inflexible, neither the remonstrances of the
pope and Doria, nor the danger to which he had already been exposed by dis-
regarding their advice, had any other effect than to confirm him in his fatal
resolution. The force, indeed, which he had collected, was such as might
have inspired a prince less adventurous, and less confident in his own schemes,
with the most sanguine hopes of success. It consisted of twenty thousand
foot and two thousand horse, Spaniards, Italians, and Germans, mostly
veterans, together with three thousand volunteers, the flower of the Spanish
and Italian nobility, fond of pajing court to the emperor by attending him
ill his favourite expedition, and eager to share in the glory which they be-
lieved he was going to reap : to these were added a thousand soldiers sent
f!-nm Malta by the order ot St. John, led by a hundred of its most gallant
^ ights.

Phe voyage from Majorca to the African coast was not less tedious, or
l of hazard, than that which he had just finished. When he approached
■ land, the roll of the sea, and the vehemence of the winds, would not admit
^^t ^ troops to disembark. But at last the emperor, seizing a favourable op-
^■tortunity. landed them without opposition, not far from Algiers, and imme-
^^■htely advanced towards the town. To oppose this mighty army, Hascen
^^nl only eight hundred Turks and five thousand Moors, partly natives of
^^B^ca, and partly reftigees from Granada. He returaed, however, a fierce
^Bd haughty answer when summoned to surrender. But with such a handful
of soldiers, neither his desperate courage, nor consummate skill in war, could
have long resisted forces supeiiorto those which had defeated Barbarossa at
tlie head of sixty thousand men, and which had reduced THin's, in spite of all
his endeavours to save it.

zi

3G8 DISASTERS TO THE AEMY AND PLEET. tSOOK VI,

But how far soever the emperor might tliink himself beyond the reach of
any danger from the^ enemy, he was suddenly exposed to a more dreadful
calamity, and one against which human prudence and human eiforts availed
nothing. On the second day after his landing, and before he had time for
anything but to disperse some light-armed Arabs, who molested his troops
on their march, the clouds began to gather, and the heavens to appear with a
fierce and threatening aspect. Towards evening, rain began to fall, accom-
panied with a violent wind ; and the rage of the tempest increasing during the
night, the soldiers, who had brought nothing ashore but their arms, remained
exposed to all its fury, without tents, or shelter, or cover of any land. The
ground was soon so wet that they could not lie down on it ; their camp, being
m a low situation, was overflowed with water, and they_ sunk at_ every step
to the ankles in mud ; while the wind blew with such impetuosity, that, to
prevent their falling, they were obUged to thrust their spears into the ground,
and to support themselves by taking hold of them. Hascen was too vigilant
an officer to allow an enemy in such distress to remain unmolested. About
the dawn of morniag, he sallied out with soldiers, who, having been, screened
from the storm under their own roofs, were fresh and vigorous. A body of
Italians, who were stationed nearest the city, dispirited and benumbed
with cold, fled at the approach of the Turks. The troops at the post behind
them discovered greater courage ; but, as the rain had extinguished their
matches, and wet their powder, their muskets were useless, and having
scarcely strength enough to handle their other arms, they were soon thrown
into confusion. Almost the whole army, with the emperor himself in person,
was obHged to advance, before the enemy could be repulsed, who, after
spreading such general- consternation, and killing a considerable number of
men, retired at last in good order.

But all feeling or remembrance of this loss and danger was quickly ob-
literated by a more dreadful as well as affecting spectacle. It was now broad
day ; the hurricane had abated nothing of its violence, and the sea appeared
agitated with all the rage of which that destructive element is capable ; all
the ships, on which alone the whole army knew that their safety and
subsistence depended, were seen driven from their anchors, some dashing
against each other, some beat to pieces on the rocks, many forced ashore,
and not a few sinking in the waves. In less than an hour fifteen ships of war,
and a hundred and forty transports, with eight thousand men, perished ; and
such of the unhappy crews as escaped the fury of the sea, were murdered
without mercy by the Arabs, as soon as they reached land. The emperor
stood in silent anguish and astonishment, beholding this fatal event, which
at once blasted all his hopes of success, and buried in the depths the vast
stores which he had provided, as well for annojdng the enemy, as for sub-
sisting his own troops. He had it not in his power to afford them any other
assistance or relief than by sending some troops to drive away the Arabs, and
thus dehvering a few who were so fortunate as to get ashore from the cruel
fate which their companions had met with. At last the whid began to iSw.
and to give some hopes that as many ships might escape as would be suf-
ficient to save the army from perishing by famine, and transport them back
to Europe. But these were only hopes ; the approach of evening covered
the sea with darkness ; and it being impossible for the officers aboard the
ships which had outlived the storm, to send any intelligence to their com-
panions who were ashore, they remained during the night in aU the anguish of
suspense and uncertainty. Next day, a boat despatched by Doria made shift
to reach land, with infonnation that havmg weathered out the storm, to
which, during fifty years' knowledge of the sea, he had never seen any equal
in fierceness and horror, he had found it necessary to bear away with his shat-

BOOK VI.] CHAHLES RETURNS TO EUROPE. 809

tered ships to Cape Metafuz. He advised tne emperor, as the face ot the sky
was still lowering and tempestuous, to march with all speed to that place,
where the troops could re-embark with greater ease.

Whatever comfort this intelligence alForded Charles, from being assured
that part of his fleet had escaped, was balanced bv the new cares and per-
plexity in which it involved him Avith regard to liis army. Metafuz was
at least three days' march from his present camp ; all the provisions which
he hiid brought ashore at his first landing were now consumed ; his soldiers,
worn out with fatigue, were hardly able for such a march, even in a friendly
country ; and beiua^ dispirited by a succession of hardships, which victory
itself would scarcely have rendered tolerable, they were in no condition to
undergo new toils. But the situation of the army was such as allowed not
one moment for deliberation, nor left it in the least doubtful what to choose.
They were ordered instantly to march, the wounded, the sick, and the feeble
being placed in the centre ; such as seemed most vigorous were stationed in
the front and rear. Then the sad effects of what they had suffered began
to appear more manifestly than ever, and new calamities w^ere added to all
those which they had already endured. Some could hardly bear the weight of
their arms ; others, spent with the toil of forcing their waj[ through deep and
almost impassable roads, sank down and died ; many perished by famine, as
the whole army subsisted chiefly on roots and berries, or the flesh of horses,
kiUed by the emperor's order, and distributed among the several battalions ;
many were drowned in brooks, which were swollen so much by the excessive
rains, that in passing them they waded up to the chin ; not a few were killed
by the enemy, who, during the greatest part of their retreat, alarmed, harassed,
and annoyed them night and day. At last they arrived at Metafuz; and the
weather being now so calm as to restore their communication with the fleet,
they were supplied with plenty of provision, and cheered with the prospect of
safety.

During this dreadful series of calamities, the emperor discovered great
qualities, many of which a long-contiuued flow of prosperity had scarcely
afforded him an opportunity of displaymg. He appeared conspicuous for
firmness and constancy of spirit, for magnanimity, fortitude, humanity, and
compassion. He endured as great hardsliips as the meanest soldier • he
exposed his own person wherever danger threatened ; he encouraged the
desponding visited the sick and wounded, and animated all by his words and
example. When the ai-my embarked, he was among the last who left the
shore, although a body of Arabs hovered at no great distance, ready to faU on
the rear. By these virtues Charles atoned, iu some degree, for his obstinacy
and presumption in undertaking an expedition so fatal to his subjects.

The calamities wliich attended tliis unfortunate enterprise did not end here ;
for no sooner were the forces got on board, than a new storm arising, though
less furious than the former, scattered the fleet, and obliged them, sepai'ateb-
to make towards such ports in Spain or Italy as they could first reach; thiL.
spreading the account of their disasters, with all the circumstances of aggrj*
vation and horror, which their imagination, still under the influence of fea;
suggested. The emperor himself, after escaping great dangers, and being
forced in'Lo the port of Bugia in Africa, where he was obliged by contrary
winds to remain several weeks, arrived at last in Spain^ in a conoition very
different from that in which he had returned from his former expedition
against the infidels.*®

»« Carol V. Expeditio ad Arpyriam, per Nicolaum ViUagnonem Ecjuitem Rhodium,
ap. Scardium, v. ii. p. 365. Jovii Hist. lib. xl. p. 269, &c. Vera y Zuniga Vida de Car-
los V. p. 83. Sandov. Hist. iL p. 239, &c.

^UO RENEWED HOSTILITIES BY FRANCIS. [BOOK VII,

BOOK VII.

Benewal of Hostilities by Francis — Operations of his Forces — Tlie Emperor's Negotiation*
with Henry VIII. — Henry's Eupture with France and Scotland — Francis's Negotia-
tions with Solyman — The Campaign in the Low Countries — Solyman invades Hun-
gary— Barbarossa's Descent upon Italy — Maurice of Saxony — The Pope calls a
Council at Trent, but is obliged to prorogue it — Diet at Spires — -Concessions to the
Protestants by the Emperor — His Negotiations with Denmark and England — Battle
of Cerisoles- -Siege of St. Disier — Peace concluded at Crespy — ^War between France
and England continued — Diet at Worms — The Protestants suspect the Emperor —
Death of the Duke of Orleans — The Pope grants the Duchies of Parma and Placentia
to his Son — The Council of Trent — The Protestants and the Emperor.

Ol54!1.] The calainities which, the emperor suffered in his unfortunate enter-
prise against Algiers were great ; and the account of these, wliich_ augmented
in proportion as it spread at a greater distance from the scene of his disasters,
encouraged Francis to begin hostilities, on which he had been for some time
resolved. But he did not think it prudent to produce, as the motives of this
resolution, either his ancient pretensions to the duchy of Milan, or the em-
peror's disingenuity in violating his repeated promises with regard to the
restitution of that country. The former might have been a good reason
against concluding the truce of Nice, but was none for breaking it; the
latter could not be urged without exposing his own credulity as much as the
emperor's want of integrity. A violent and unwarrantable action of one of
the imperial generals furnished him with a reason to justify his taking arms,
which was of greater weight than either of these, and such as would have
roused him, if he had been as desirous of peace as he was eager for war.
Prancis, by signing the treaty of truce at Nice, without consulting Solyman,
gave (as he foresaw) great offence to that haughty monarch, who considered
an alliance with him as an honour of which a Christian prince had cause to
be proud. The friendly interview of the French king with the emperor in
Provence, followed by such extraordinary appearances of union and confidence
which distinguished the reception of Charles when he passed through the do-
minions of Francis to the Low Countries, induced the sultan to suspect that
the two rivals had at last forgotten their ancient emnity, in order that they
might form such a general confederacy against the Ottoman power, as hao.
been long wished for in Christendom, and often attempted in vain. Charles,
with his usual art, endeavoured to confirm and strengthen these suspicions,
by instructing his emissaries at Constantinople, as well as in those courts with
which Solyman held any intelligence, to represent the concord between him
and Francis to be so entire, that then- sentiments, views, and pursuits, would
be the same for the future.' It was not without difiiculty that Francis effaced
these impressions ; but the address of Rincon, the French ambassador at the
Porte, together with the manifest advantage of carrying on hostihties against
the house of Austria in concert with France, prevailed at length on the sultan
not, only to banish his suspicions, but to enter into a closer conjunction with

1 Mem. de Eibier, torn. L p. 502.

BOOK Vn.] RENE-WTED HOSTILITIES BY FRANCIS. 311

Pi*ancis tlian ever. Kincon returned into France, iu order to communicate to
his master a scheme of the sultan's for gaining the concurrence of the Ve-
netians iu their operations against the common enemy. Solyman having
lately concluded a peace witn that republic, to ^rhich the mediation or
Francis, and the good offices of llincon had greatly contributed, thought it
not impossible to allure the senate by such advantages, as, together with the
example of the French monarch, might overbalance any scruples arising
either from decency or caution, that could operate on the other side. Francis,
wai-mlv approving of this measure, despatched Kincon back to Constantinople,
and, directing Mm to go by Venice, alou"; Avith Fregoso, a Genoese cjole,
whom he appointed his ambassador to that republic, empowered them to
negotiate the matter with the senate, to whom Solyman had sent an envoy
for the same pui-pose.- The Marquis del Guasto, governor of the JSlilanese, an
officer of great abilities, but capable of attempting and executing the most
atrocious designs, got intelligence of the motions and destinations of these
ambassadors. As he knew how much his master wished to discover the in-
tentions of the French king, and of what consequence it was to retard the
execution of his measures, he employed some soldiers belonging to the gar-
rison of Pavia to he in wait for Kincon and Fregoso as they sailed down the
Po, who murdered them and most of their attendants, and seized their papers.
Upon receiving an account of tliis barbarous outrage, committed, during the
subsistence of a truce, against persons held sacred by the most uncivilized
nations, Francis's grief for the imliappy fate of two servants whom he loved
and trusted, his uneasiness at the interruption of his schemes by their death,
and every other passion, were swallowed up and lost in the indignation which
this insult on the honour of his cro\vn excited. He exclaimed loudly against
Guasto, who, having drawn upon liimself all the infamy of assassination with-
out making any discoveiy of importance, as the ambassadors had left their
instmctions and other papers of consequence behind them, now boldly denied
his being accessor}^ in anywise to the crime. He sent an ambassador to the
emperor, to demand suitable reparation for an indignity, which no prince,
how inconsiderable or pusillanimous soever, could tamely endure ; and when
Charles, impatient at that time to set out on his African expedition, endea-
voured to put him off with an evasive answer, he appealed to all the courts in
Europe, setting forth the heinousness of the injury, the spirit of moderation
•with which he had appUed for redress, and the iniquity of the emperor in
disregardiug this just request.

Notwithstanding the confidence with which Guasto asserted his own inno-
cence, the accusations of the French gained greater credit than ail his pro-
testations ; and Bellay, the French commander in Piedmont, procured at
length, by Ms industry and address, such a minute detail of the transaction,
with the testimony of so many of the parties concerned, as amounted almost
to a legal proof of the mfixquis's guilt. In consequence of tMs opinion of the
public, confirmed by such strong e\ddence, Francis's complaints were umver-
sally allowed to be well founded ; and the steps which he took towai'ds re-
newing hostilities were ascribed not merely to ambition or resentment, but to
" e unavoidable necessity of vindicating the honour of his crowu.^

However just Francis might esteem his own cause, he did not tnist so
much to that, as to neglect the proper precautions for gaining other allies be-
sides the sultan, by whose aid he might counterbalance the emperor's supericnr
power. But his negotiations to this effect were attended with very little suc-
cess. Hemy YIU., eagerly bent at that time upon schemes against Scotka^

I-

2 Hist, di Venez. di Paruta, iv. p. 125.

» M^mi de Bellay, p. 367, &c. Jovii Hist. lib. xl. p. 268.

812 OPERATIONS or TiUs f KENCH AEMIES. [ BOOK VK.

which he knew would at once dissolve his union with Trance, was inclinable
rather to take part with the emperor, than to contribute in any degree towards
favouring the operations against him. The pope adhered inviolably to his
ancient system of neutraKty. The Yenetians, notwithstandhig Solyman's
solicitations, imitated the pope's example. The Germans, satished with the
religious liberty which they enjoyed, found it more their interest to gratify
than to irritate the emperor ; so that the kings of Denmark and Sweden, who
on this occasion were first drawn in to interest themselves in the quarrels of
the more potent monarchs of the south, and the duke of Cleves, who had a
dispute with the emperor about the possession of Gueldres, were the only
confederates whom Francis secured. But the dominions of the two former
lay at such a distance, and the power of the latter was so inconsiderable, that
he gained little by their alliance.

But Francis, by vigorous efforts of his own activity, supplied every defect.
Being afflicted at this time with a distemper, which was the effect of his ir-
regular j)leasures, and which prevented his pursuing them with the same li-
centious iudulgence, he applied to business with more than his usual industry.
The same cause w^hich occasioned this extraordinary attention to his affau's,
rendered hun morose and dissatisfied with the ministers whom he had hitherto
employed. This accidental peevishness being sharpened by reflectmg on the
false steps into which he had lately been betrayed, as well as the insults to
wnich he had been exposed, some or those in whom he had usually placed the
greatest confidence felt the effects of this change in his tempei' and were
deprived of their ofiices. At last he disgraced Montmorency himself, who had
long directed affairs, as well civil as mihtary, with all the authority of a mi.
nister no less beloved than trusted by his master ; and Francis being fond of
showmg that the fall of such a powerful favourite did not affect the vigour or
prudence of his admuiistration, this was a new motive to redouble Ins dili-
gence in preparing to open the war by some splendid and extraordinary effort.

He accordingly brought into the field five armies. One to act in Luxem-
bourg, under the duke of Orleans, accompanied by the duke of Lorrain as his
instructor iu the art of war. Another, commanded by the dauphui, marched
towards the frontiers of Spain. A thnd, led by Yan Rossem, the marshal
of Gueldres, and composed chiefly of the troops of Cleves, had Brabant allotted
for the theatre of its operations. A fourth, of which the duke of Yendome
was general, hovered on the borders of Flanders. The last, consistiug of the
forces cantoned in Piedmont, was destmed for the Admiral Amiebaut. The
dauphin and his brother were appomted to command where the chief ex-
ertions were mtended, and the greatest honour to be reaped ; the army of
the former amounted to forty thousand, that of the latter to thirty thousand
men. Nothing appears more surprisiag than that Francis did not pour with
these numerous and irresistible armies into the Milanese, which had so long
been the object of his wishes as well as enterprises; and that he should
choose rather to turn almost his whole strength into -another dii-ection, and
towards new conquests. But the remembrance of the disasters which he had
met with in Ms former expeditions into Italy, together with the difficulty of
supporting a war carried on at such a distance from liis own dominions, had
gradually abated his violent inclination to obtain footing ui that country, and
made him willing to try the fortune of his arms in another quarter. At the
same time he expected to make such a powerful impression on the frontier of
Spain, where there were few towns of any strength, and no army assembled
to oppose him, as might enable him to recover possession of the country of
RoussiUon, lately dismembered from the French crown, before Charles could
bring into the field any force able to obstruct his progress. The necessity of
supporting his ally, the duke of Cleves, and the hope of drawing a consider-

\V1

BOOK VII.] PKEPARATI0N8 FOB AKOTHEB CAMSUQV, 313

able body of soldiers out of Germany by bis meaus, determined bim to act
with vigour in the Low Countries.

The dauphin and duke of Orleans opened the campaign much about the
same time ; the former laying siege to Peripi^nan, the capital of Rcussillon,
uutl the latter enteriug Luxembourg, The duke of Orleans pushed his opera-
tions \\ith the greatest rapidity tuid success, one town faUing after another,
until no place in that hu:ge duchy remained in the emperor's hands but
TliionviUe. Nor could he nave failed of overrunning the adjacent provinces
with the same ease, if he had not voluntarily stopped short in this career of
victory. But a report prevailing that the emperor had determined to hazard
a battle in order to save Pcrpignan, on a sudden the duke, prompted bv
youthful ardour, or moved, perhaps, by jealousy of his brother, whomlie both
envied and hated, abandoned his owti conquest, and hastened towards Rous-
sillou, in order to divide with him the glory of the victory.

On his departure, some of his troops were disbanded, others deserted their
colours, and the rest, cantoned ia the to^vns which he had taken, remained
inactive. By this conduct, which leaves a dishonourable imputation either
on his understandiiig or Ids heart, or on both, he not only renounced whatever
he could have hopea from such a promisLQg commencement of the campaign,
but gave the enemy an opportunity of recovering, before the end of the
summer, all the conquests which he had gained. On the Spanish frontier,
the emperor was not so inconsiderate as to venture on a battle, the loss of
\yliich mi^ht have endangered his kingdom. Perpignan, though poorly forti-
fied, and brisklv attacked, having been largely supplied with ammunition and
provisions by the vigilance of Doria,* was defended so long and so vigorously
by the duke of Alva, the persevering obstinacv of whose temper fitted him
admirably for such a service, that at last the I'rench, after a siege of three
months, wasted by diseases, repulsed in several assaults, and despairing of
success, relinquished the undertaking, and retired into their own country.*
Thus all Prancis's mighty preparations, either from some defect in his own
conduct, or from the superior power and prudence of his rival, produced no
effects which bore any proportion to his expense and efforts, or such as grati-
fied, ia any degree, his own hopes, or answered the expectation of Europe.
The only solid advantage of the campaign was the acquisition of a few towns
in Piedinont, wliich Bellay gained rather by stratagem and address, than by
force of anns.^

[lo-iS.] The emperor and Francis, though both considerably exhausted
by such great but indecisive efforts, discovering: no abatement of their
mutual animosity, employed all their attention, tried every expedient, and
turned themselves towards every quarter, in order to acquire new allies,
together with such a reinforcement of strength as would give them the
superiority in the ensuing campaign. Charles, taking advantage of the
terror and resentment of the Spaniards, upon the sudden invasion of their
country, prevailed on the cortes of the several kingdoms to grant him sub-
sidies witn a more Kberal hand than usual. At the same time he borrowed
a lai-gc sum from Jolm, king of Portugal, and, by way of security for liis
repayment, put him in possession of the Molucca isles in the East Lidies,
with the gainful commerce of precious spices, which that sequestered corner
'■ the globe yields. Not satisfied with this, he negotiated a marriage be-
...eeii Philip, his only sou, now in his sixteenth year, and Mary, daughter of
liat monarch, with whom her father, the most opulent prince in Europe, gave
a large dower ; and having likewise persuaded the cortes of Aragon and

Sigonii Vita A. Doriae, p. 1191. * Sandov. Hist. torn. ii. p. 315.

« iSaiidov. Hist. torn. u. p. 318. M^m. de Bellay, pp. 387, &c Ferrer, ix. 237

31* CHARLES NEGOTIATES WITH HENEY VHI. [BOOK VII.

Valentia to recognise Philip as the heir of these crowns, he obtained from
them the donative usual on such occasions/ These extraordinary suppiiea
enabled him to make such additions to his forces in Spain, that he could
detach a great body into the Low Countries, and yet reserve as many as were
sufficient for the defence of the kingdom. Having thus provided for the
security of Spain, and committed the government of it to his son, he sailed
for Italy in his way to Germany. But how attentive soever to raise the
funds for carrying on the war, or eager to grasp at any new expedient for that
purpose, he was not so inconsiderate as to accept of an overture which Paul,
knowing his necessities, artfully threw out to him. That ambitious pontiff,
no less sagacious to discern, than watchful to seize opportunities of aggran-
dizing his family, solicited him to grant Octavio, his grandchild, whom the
emperor had admitted to the honour of being his son-in-law, the investiture
of the duchy of Milan, ia return for which he promised such a sum of money
as would have gone far towards supplying all his present exigencies. But
Charles, as well from unwillingness to alienate a province of so much value,
as from disgust at the pope, who had hitherto refused to join in the war
against Prance, rejected the proposal. His dissatisfaction with Paul at that
juncture was so great, that he even refused to approve his ahenatiag Parma
and Placentia from the patrimony of St. Peter, and settling them on his son
and grandson as a fief to be held of the holy see. As no other expedient for
raising money among the Italian states remained, he consented to withdraw
the garrisons which he had hitherto kept in the citadels of Plorence and
Leghorn ; in consideration for which, he received a large present from Cosmo
de' Medici, who by this means secured his own independence, and got pos-
session of two forts, which were justly called the fetters of Tuscany.^

But Charles, while he seemed to have turned his whole attention towards
raising the sums necessary for defraying the expenses of the year, had not
been negligent of objects more distant, though no less important, and had
concluded a league offensive and defensive with Henry YilL, from which
he derived, in the end, greater advantage than from aU his other prepara-
tions. Several slight circumstances, which have already been mentioned, had
begun to alienate the affections of that monarch froni Francis, with whom he
had been for some time in close alliance ; and new incidents of greater mo-
ment had occurred to increase his disgust and animosity. Henry, desirous of
establishing an uniformity in religion in both the British kingdoms, as well
as fond of making proselytes to his own opinions, had formed a scheme of
persuading his nephew, the king of Scots, to renounce the pope's supremacy,
and to adopt the same system of reformation, which he had introduced into
England. This measure he pursued with his usual eagerness and impetuosity,
making such advantageous ofl'ers to James, whom he considered as not over-
scrupuiously attached to any religious tenets, that he_ hardlv doubted of
success. His propositions were accordingly received in such a manner,
that he flattered himself with having gained his point. But the Scottish
ecclesiastics, foreseeing how fatal the union of their sovereign with England
must prove both to their own power, and to the established system of re-
ligion; and the partisans of Prance, no less convinced that it would put an
end to the influence of that cro\vn upon the public councils of Scotland, com-
bined together, and, by their insinuations, defeated Heniy's scheme at the
very moment when he expected it to have taken effect.^ Too haugh^' to
brook such a disappointment, which he imputed as much to the arts of the

7 Ferrer, ix. 238, 241. Jovii Hist. lib. xlii. 298, G.

8 Adriaiia, Istoria.i . 195. Sleid, p. 312. Jovii Hist. lib. xiiii. p. 301. Vita di
Cos. Medici da Baldini, p. 34. » Hist, of Scot. vol. i. p. 68, &c.

BOOK Vn.] henry's rupture with FRANCE. 315

French as to the levity of the Scottish monarch, he took un arms against
Scoftand, threatening to subdue the kingdom, since he coula not gain the
friendship of its king. At the same time, his resentment against Fi-ancis
quickened his negotiations with the emperor, an alliance with whom he was
now as forward to accept as the other could be to offer it. During this
war with Scotland, and before the conclusion of liis negotiations with Charles,
James V. died, leaving liis crown to Marj-, his only daughter, an infant of a
few days old. Upon tiiis event, Henry altered at once liis whole systeni with
regard to Scotland ; and abandoning aR thoughts of conquering it, aimed at
what was more advantageous as well as more practicable, a union of that
kingdom by a mamage between Edward his only son and the young queen.
But here, too, he apprehended a vigorous opposition from the iVench faction
in Scothmd, which began to bestir itself in order to thwart the measure. The
necessity of crusliing tliis party among the Scots, and of preventing Francis
from furnishing them auy effectual aid, confirmed Henry's resolution of break-
ing with France, and pushed him on to put a finishing hand to the treaty of
confederacy with the emperor.

In this league were contained, first of all, articles for securing their fature
amity and mutual defence ; then were enumerated tlie demanas which they
were respectively to make upon Francis; and the plan of their operations
was fixed, if he snould refuse to grant them satisfaction. They agreed to re-
quire that Francis should not only renounce his alliance with Solyman, which
Had been the source of infinite cjilamities to Christendom, but also that he
should make reparation for the damages %vhich that unnatural union had occa-
sioned; that he should restore Burgundy to the emperor- that he should
desist immediately from hostilities, and leave Charles at leisure to oppose
the common enemy of the Christian faith ; and that he should immediately
pay the sums. due to Henry, or put some towns in his hands as security to
that effect. If, within forty days, he did not comply with these demands, they
then engaged to invade France, each with twenty thousand foot and five
thousand horse, and not to lay down their anns until they had recovered
Bui'gundy, together with the towns on the Sorame, for the emperor, and Nor-
mandv audGuieime, or even the whole realm of France, for Henry.'" Their
heralds, accordingly, set out with these haughty requisitions ; and though they
were not permitted to enter Fi-ance, the two monarchs held themselves fuUy
entitled to execute whatever was stipulated in their treaty.

Francis, on his part, was sot less diligent in preparing for the approach-
ing campaign. Hanng earlv observ^ed symptoms of Hemys disgust and aliena-
tion, and finding all Ins endeavours to soothe and reconcile him ineffectual, he
knew his temper too well not to expect that open hostilities would quickly
follow upon this cessation of friendship. For tliis reason, he redoubled his
endeavours to obtain from Solyman such aid as migM counterbalance the
great accession of strength which the emperor would receive by liis alli-
ance with England. In order to supply the place of the two ambassadors
who had been murdered by Guasto, he sent as his envoy, fii-st to Yenice, and
then to Consta,nlinople, Paulin, who, though in no higher rank than a captain
of foot, was deemed worthy of being raised to tliis important station, to which
he was recommended by Bellay, wno had trained him to the arts of negotia-
tion, and made trial of his talents and address on several occasions. Nor
did he belie the opinion conceived of his courage and abilities. Hastening to
Constantinople, without regarding, the dangers to which he was exposed, he
ui^ed his master's demands with such boldness, and availed himself of everr
circumstance with such dexterity, that he soon removed all the sidtan's dif-

w Kym. xiv. 768. Herb. p. 238.

316 CAMPAIGN IN THE LOW COUNTRIES. | BOOK VII.

ficulties. As some of the bashas, swayed either by their own opinion, or in-
fluenced by the emperor's emissaries, who had made their way even into this
court, had declared in the divan against acting in concert with Erance, he
found means either to convince or silence them. ^^ At last he obtained orders
for Barbarossa to sail with a powerful fleet, and to regulate all his operations
by the directions of the Trench king. Erancis was not equally successful in
his attempts to gain the princes of the empire. The extraordinary rigour
with which he thought it necessary to punish such of his subjects as had em-
braced the protestant opinions, in order to give some notable evidence of his
own zeal for the catholic faith, and to wipe off the imputations to which he
was Hable from his confederacy with the Turks, placed an insuperable barrier
between him and such of the Germans as interest or inclination would have
prompted most readily to join him.*^ His chief advantage, however, over
the emperor, he derived on this, as on other occasions, from the contiguity of
his dominions, as well as from the extent of the royal authority in France,
which exempted him from all the delavs and disappointments unavoidable
wherever popular assemblies provide for the expenses of government by
occasional and frugal subsidies. Hence his domestic preparations were always
carried on with vigour and rapidity, while those of the emperor, unless when
quickened by some foreign supply, or some temporary expedient, were ex-
tremely slow and dilatory.

Long before any army was in readiness to oppose him, Erancis took the
field in the Low Countries, against which he turned the whole weight of the
war. He made himself master of Landrecy, which he determined to keep
as the key to the whole province of Hainault, and ordered it to be fortified with

freat care. l\miing from thence to the right, he entered the duchy of Luxem-
ourg, and found it in the same defenceless state as in the former year.
While he was thus employed, the emperor having drawn together an army,
composed of all the different nations subject to his government, entered the
territories of the duke of Cleves, on whom he had vowed to inflict exemplary
vengeance. This prince, whose conduct and situation were similar to that of
Eobert de la Mark in the first war between Charles and Erancis, resembled
him likewise in his fate. Unable, with his feeble army, to face the emperor,
who advanced at the head of forty-four thousand men, he retired at his ap-
proach ; and the imperialists being at liberty to act as they pleased, imme-
diately invested Duren. That town, though gallantly defended, was taken by
assault ; all the inhabitants were put to the sword, and the place itself re-
duced to ashes. This dreadful example of severity struck the people of the
country with such general terror, that all the other towns, even such as were
capable of resistance, sent their keys to the emperor ; and before a body of
Erench, detached to his assistance, could come up, the duke himself was
obliged to make liis submission to Charles in the most abject manner. Being
admitted into the imperial presence, he kneeled, together with eight of liis
principal subjects, and implored mercy. The emperor allowed him to remain
in that ignominious posture, and eyeing him with a haughty and severe look,
without deigning to answer a single word, remitted him to his ministers. The
conditions, however, wliich they prescribed were not so rigorous as he had
reason to have expected after such a reception. He was obliged to renounce
his alliance with Erance and Denmark ; to resign all his pretensions to the
duchy of Gueldres ; to enter into perpetual amity with the emperor and king
of the Romans. In return for wluch, aU his hereditary dominions were re-
stored, except two towns, which the emperor kept as pledges of the duke's

" Sandov. Hist. ii. 34G. Jovii Hist. xli. 285, &c 300, &c. Brantome.
12 Seek. lib. iii. p. 403.

BOOK VII.] BABBABOSSA*S DESCENT ON ITALY. 817

fidelity during the continuance of the war ; and he was reinstated in his privi-
leges as a prince of the empire. Not long after, Charles, as a t)roof of the
sincerity of liis reconcilement, gave liira in marriage one of the daughters of
" 3 brother Ferdinand.'^
Having tlius cluistised the presumption of the duke of Cleves, detached
e of his allies from Francis, and aimexed to his owti dominions in the Low
)untries a considerable province which lay contiguous to them, Charles ad-
nced towards Hainault, and laid siege to Landrecy. There, as the first-
lits of his alliance with Henry, he was joined by six thousand English
_ider Sir John Wallop. The garrison, consisting of veteran troops com-
landed by De la Lande and Desse, two officers of reputation, made a
orous resistance. Francis approached with all his forces to relieve that
ce ; Charles covered the siege ; both were determined to hazard an engage-
ent ; and all Europe expected to see this contest, which \\i\d continued so
ng, decided at last by a oattle between two great armies, led by their re-
_)ective monarchs in person. But the ground which separated their two
clunps was such as put the disadvantage manifestly on his side who should
enture to attack, and neither of them chose to run that risk. Amidst a
riety of movements, in order to draw the enemy into the snare, or to avoid
themselves, Francis, with admirable conduct and equal ^ood fortune, tlirew
st a supply of fresh troops, and then a convoy of provisions, into the town,
so that the emperor, despairing of success, withdrew into wmter-quarters,^*
in order to preser\'e his army from being entirely ruined by the rigour of the
sejison.

During this campaign, Soljinan fulfilled his engagements to the French
king with great punctuality. He himself marched into Hungary with a nu-
merous armv ; and as the princes of the empire made no great efl'ort to save
a country which Charles, by employing his own force against Francis, seemed
willing to sacrifice, there was no appearance of any body of troops to oppose
his progress. He besieged, one alter another, Quinque Ecclesise, Alba, and
Gran, the three most considerable towns in the kingdom, of which Ferdinand
had kept possession. The first was taken by storm ; the other two surren-
dered ; and the whole kingdom, a small comer excepted, was subjected to the
Turkish yoke.'* About the same time, Barbarossa sailed with a fleet of a
hundred and ten galleys, and, coasting along the shore of Calabria, made a
descent at EJieggio, which he plundered and burnt; and advancing from
thence to the mouth of the Tiber, he stopped there to water. The citizens
of Rome, ignorant of his destination, and filled with terror, began to fly with
such general precipitation, that the city would have been totally deserted, if
rhey had not resumed courage upon letters from Paulin, the French envoy,
assuring them that no violence or injuiy would be offered by the Turks to
imy state in alliance with the king his master.'^ From Ostia. Barbarossa
sailed to Marseilles, and being joined by the French fleet with a Dody of land-
lorces on beard, under the count d'Enguien, a gallant young prince of the
house of Bourbon, they directed their course towards Nice, the sole retreat
of the unfortunate duke 9f Savoy. There, to the astonishment and scandal
of all Christendom, the lilies of France and crescent of Maliomet appeared in
conjunction against a fortress on which the cross of Savoy was displayed.
The town, however, was bravely defended against their combined force by
Montfort, a Savoyard gentleman, who stood a general assault, and repulsed the
tnemy with great loss, before he retired into the castle. That fort, situated

" Haraei Annul. Brabant, torn. i. p. 628. Recueil des Traites, torn. ii. p. 22G.
»* Mem. de Bellay, pp. 405, &c. '^ Istuauhafiii Hist. Hung. lib. xv. p. 167

»• Jovii Hist. lib. xliii. pp. 3U4, &c. Pallavic. v. 160.

JOS REVIEW or GERMAN AFIAIBS. [BOOK VH,

upon a rock, on wliich the artillery made no impression, and wliicli could not
be undermined, he held out so long, that Doria had time to approach with his
fleet, and the Marquis del Guasto to march with a body of troops from Milan.
Upon intelligence of this, the French and Turks raised the siege ;''' and Fran-
cis had not even the consolation of success, to render the infamy which he
drew on himself, by calling in such an auxiliary, more pardonable.

^ From the small progress of either party during this campaign, it was ob-
vious to what a length the war might be drawn out between two princes,
whose power was so equally balanced, and who, by their own talents or
activity, could so vary and multiply their resources. The trial Avhich they
had now made of each other's strength might have taught them the im-
prudence of persisting in a war, wherein there was greater appearance of
their distressing their own dominions than of conquering those of their ad-
versary, and should have disposed both to wish for peace. If Charles and
Francis had been influenced by considerations of interest or prudence alone,
this, without doubt, must have been the manner in which they would have
reasoned. But the personal animosity, which mingled itself in all their
auarrels, had grown to be so violent ancl implacable, that, for the pleasure of
gratifying it, they disregarded everything else ; and were iafinitely more soli-
citous how to hurt each other, than hW to secure what would be of ad-
vantage to themselves. No sooner, then, did the season force them to suspend
hostilities, than, without pajing any attention to the pope's repeated endea-
vours or paternal exhortations to re-estabhsh peace, they began to provide
for the operations of the next year with new vigour, and an activity increasing
with their hatred. Charles turned his chief attention towards gaining the
princes of the empire, and endeavoured to rouse the formidable but unwieldy
strength of the Germanic body against Francis. In order to understand the
propriety of the steps_ which he took for that purpose, it is necessary to re-
view the chief transactions in that country since the diet of Ratisbon, in the
year one thousand five hundred and forty-one.

Much about the time that assembly broke up, Maurice succeeded his father
Henry ia the government of that part of Saxony which belonged to the Al-
bertine branch of the Saxon family. This young prince, then only in his
twentieth year, had, even at that early period, began to discover the great
talents which qualified him for acting such a distinguished part in the affairs
of Germany. As soon as he entered upon the admitiistration, he struck out
into such a new and singular patli, as showed that he aimed from the be-
ginning at something great and uncommon. Though zealously attached to the
protestant opinions, both from education and principle, he refused to accede
to the league of Smalkalde, being determined, as he said, to maintain the
purity of religion, which was the original object of that confederacy, but not
to entangle himself in the political interests or combinations to which it had
given rise. At the same time, foreseeing a rupture between Charles and the
confederates of Smalkalde, and perceiving which of them was most Hkely to
prevail in the contest, instead of that jealousy and distrust which the otiier
protestants expressed of all the emperor's designs, he affected to place in him
unbounded confidence, and courted his favour with the utmost assiduity.
When the other protestants, in the year fifteen hundred and forty-two, either
declined assisting Ferdinand in Hungary, or afforded him reluctant and feeble
aid, Maurice marched thither in person, and rendered himself conspicuous by
his zeal and courage. From the same motive, he had led to the emperor's
assistance, during the last campaign, a body of his own troops ; and the
gracefulness of his person, his dexterity in all military exercises, together

»^ Guichenor, Hist, de Savoye, torn. i. p. 651. Mem. de Bellay, pp. 425, &c.

m

BOOK Vn.] THE POPE PHOPOSES A COUNCll. AT TBJENT. .319

with liis intrepidity, which courted and delig:hted in danger, did not distin-
guish him more in the field tlian his great abilities and insinuating address
won upon the emperor's confidence and favour," While by this conduct,
which appeared extraordinary to those who held the same opinions with him
concermng religion, Maui-ice endeavoured to pay court to the emperor, he
bej^an to discover some degree of jealousy of his cousin, the elector of Saxony.
This, wliich proved in the sequel so fatal to tlie elector, liad almost occasioned
Lii open ruptiu"e between them; and soon after Maurice's accession to the
u'ovemmcnt, they both took arms with equal rage, upon account of a dispute
about the right of jurisdiction over a paltry town situated on the Moldaw.
Thev were preventeu, however, from proceediiig to action by the mediation of
the landgrave of Hesse, whose daughter Maurice had married, as well as by
the powerful and authoritative admonitions of Luther."

Amidst these transactions, the pope, tliough extremely irritated at the em-
peror's concessions to the protestants at the diet of Ratisbon, was so warmly
solicited on aU hands, bv such as were most devoutly attached to the see of
Eome, no less than by those whose fidelity or designs he suspected, to sum-
pion a general council, that he found it impossible to avoid any longer calling
that assembly. The impatience for its meeting, and the expectations of great
eifects from its decisions, seemed to grow in proportion to the difficulty of
obtaining it. He still adhered, however, to his original resolution of holding
it in some town of Italy, where, by the number of ecclesiastics, retainers to
uis court, and depending on his favoui-, who could repair to it without
difficulty or expense, he might influence and even direct all its pr9ceedings.
This proposition, though often rejected by the Grermans, he instructed
his nuncio to the diet held at Spires, in the year one thousand five hundred and
forty-two, to renew once more ; and if he found it gave no greater satisfac-
tion than formerly, he empowered him, as a last concession, to propose, for
the place of meeting, Trent, a city in the Tyrol, subject to the king of the Ro-
mans, and situated on the confines between Germany and Italy. The catholic
princes in the diet, after giving it as tlieir opinion that the council might
nave been held with greater advantage in Ratisbon, Cologne, or some of the
great cities of the empire, were at length induced to approve of the place
which the pope had named. The protestants unanimously expressed their dis-
satisfaction, and protested that they would pay no regard to a council held be-
vond the precincts of the empire, called by the pope's authority, and in which
he assumed the right of presiding.-'*

The pope, without taking any notice of their objections, published the
bull of intimation, named three cardinals to preside as his legates, and ap-
]^omted them to repair to Trent before the first of November, the day he had
fixed for opening the council. But if Paul had desii'ed the meeting of a
uncil as sincerely as he pretended, he would not have pitched on such an
proper time for calling it. Instead of that general union and tranquillity,
thout which the deliberations of a council could neither be conducted with
security, nor attejided with authority, such a fierce war was just kindled be-
tween the emperor and Francis, as rendered it impossible for the ecclesias-
tics from many parts of Europe to resort thither in safety. The legates, ac-
cordingly, remamed several months in Trent ; but as no person appeared
there, except a few prelates from the ecclesiastical state, the pope, in order to
avoid the ridicule and contempt which this drew upon him from the enemies of
tiie church, recalled them and prorogued the coundl.-*

'* SleJd. p. 317. Seek. lib. ui. pp. 371, 386, 428.

»9 Sleid. p 292. Seek. lib. iiL p. 403.

" Sleid. p. 291. Seek. hb. iu. p. 283. =» F. Paul, p. 97 Sleid. p. 296.

320 THE DUKE OF BRUNSWICK DEFEATED. [BOOK VU.

Unliappily for the authority of the papal see, at the very time that the
German protestants took every occasion of pouring contempt upon it, the
emperor and king of the Eomans found it necessary not only to connive
at their conduct, but to court their favour by repeated acts of indulgence.
In the same diet of Spires, in which they had protested in the most dis-
respectful terms against assembling a council at Trent, Ferdinand, who
depended on their aid for the defence of Hungary, not only permitted that
protestation to be inserted in the records of the diet, but renewed in their
favour aU the emperor's concessions at Ratisbon, adding to them whatever
they demanded for their farther security. Among other particulars, he
granted a suspension of a decree of the imperial chambei against the city
of Goslar (one of those which had entered into the league of SmaUcalde), on
account of its having seized the ecclesiastical revenues within its domains,
and enjoined Henrj^, duke of Brunswick, to desist from his attempts to carry
that decree into execution. But Henry, a furious bigot, and no less obstinate
than rash in all his undertakings, contmuing to disquiet the people of Goslar
by his incursions, the elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse, that they
might not suffer any member of the Smalkaldic body to be oppressed, as-
sembled their forces, declared war in form against Henry, and in the space
of a few weeks, stripping him entirely of his dominions, drove him as a
wretched exile to take refuge in the court of Bavaria. By this act of ven-
geance no less severe than sudden, they filled all Germany with dread of
their power ; and the confederates of Smalkalde appeared by this first effort
of their arms, to be as ready as they were able to protect those who had
joined the association."

Emboldened by so many concessions in their favour, as weU as by the
progress which their opinions daUy made, the princes of the league of Smal-
kalde took a solemn protest agamst the imperial chamber, and declined its
jurisdiction for the future, because that court had not been visited or re-
formed according to the decree of Ratisbon, and continued to discover a
most indecent partiality in all its proceedings. Not long after this, they
ventured a step farther; and protesting against the recess of a diet held at
Nuremberg, which provided for the defence of Hungary, refused to furnish
their contingent for that purpose, unless the imperial chamber were reformed,
and full security were granted them in every point with regard to religion.'-^^

[1544.] Such were the lengths to which the protestants had proceeded, and
such their confidence in their own power, when the emperor returned from
the Low Countries, to hold a diet, which he had summoned to meet at Spires.
The respect due to the emperor, as well as the importance of the affairs which
were to be laid before it, rendered this assembly extremely full. All the
electors, a great number of princes, ecclesiastical and secular, with the de-
puties of most of the cities, were present. Charles soon perceived that this
was not a time to offend the jealous spirit of the protestants, by asserting
in any high tone the authority and doctrmes of the church, or by abridging,
in the smallest article, the lioerty wliich they now enjoyed ; but that, on the
contrary, if he expected any support from them, or wished to preserve
Germany from intestine disorders while he was engaged in a foreign war, he
must soothe them by new concessions, and a more ample extension of their
religious privileges. He began, accordingly, with courting the elector of
Sa-xony, and landgrave of Hesse, the heads of the protestant party; and,
by giving up some things in their favour, and granting liberal promises with

22 Sleid. p. 296. Commemoratio succincta Causarum Belli, &c., a Smalkaldicis contr*
Henr. Brunsw. ab iisdem edita: ap. Scardium. torn. ii. p. 307.

23 Sleid. pp. 304, 807. Seek. lib. iii. pp. 404, 416.

BOOK VII.] DIliT AT SPIEES. 321

rcgai-d to others, he secured hinisclf from any danger of opposition on their

Sart. Having gained this capital point, he then yentm-ed to address the
iet witli greater freedom. He began by representing his own zeal and un-
wearied efforts with regard to two tilings most essential to Cliristendom, the
procuring of a general council in order to compose the religious dissensions
which had unhappily arisen in Gemiany, and the providing some proper
means for checkmg the formidable progress of the Turkish arms. ]3ut he
observed, with deep regret, tliat his pious endeavours had been entirely de-
feated by the unjustifiable ambition of the French king, who, having wantonly
kindled the flame of war in Europe, which had been so lately extinguishea
by the truce of Nice, rendered it impossible for the fathers of the church to
assemble in council, or to deliberate with security ; and obliged him to
employ those forces in liis own defence, which, with greater satisfaction to
lumsefe as well as more honour to Christendom, he would have turned against
the infidels : that Francis, not thinking it enough to have called lum off
from opposing' the Mdiometans, had, with unexampled impiety, invited them
into the heart of Christendom, and joining his arms to theirs, had openly
attacked the duke of Savoy, a member of the empire : that Barbarossa's fleet
was now in one of the ports of France, waiting only the return of spring to
carry terror and desolation to the coast of some Christian state: that in
such a situation, it was folly to think of distant expeditious against tlie Turk,
or of marcliin^ to oppose his armies in Hungary, while such a powerful ally
received him m the centre of Europe, and gave him footing theie. It w^as
a dictate of prudence, he added, to oppose the nearest and most imminent
danger, first of all, and, by humbling the power of France, to deprive Soljinan
of the advantages which he derived from the unnatural confederacy formed be-
tween him ana a monarch who still arrogated the name of Most Christian *
that, in truth, a war against the French king and the sultan ought to be con-
sidered as the same tiling ; and that every advantage gained over the fonner
was a severe and sensible blow to the latter. On all these accounts, he con-
cluded with demanding their aid against Francis, not merely as an enemy of
the Germanic body, or of him who was its head, but as an avowed ally of
the infidels, and a public enemy to the Christian name.

In order to give greater weight to tliis violent invective of the emperor,
the king of the Romans stood up, and related the rapid conquests of the
sultan in Hungary, occasioned, as he said, hy the fatal necessity imposed on
his brother of employing his anus against France. When he had finished,
the ambassador of Savoy gave a detail of Barbarossa's operations at Nice, and
of the ravages which he had committed on that coast. All these, added to the
general indignation which Francis's unprecedented union with the Turks
excited in Europe, made such an impression on the diet as ihe emperor
wdshed, and disposed most of the members to grant him such effectual aid
as he had demanded. The ambassadors whom Francis had sent to explain
the motives of Ids conduct, were not permitted to enter the bounds of the
empire ; and the apology which they published for their master, vindicating
his alliance with Solyman by examples drawn from Scripture, and the practice
ot Christian princes, was httle regai-ded by men who were irritated already,
or prejudiced against him to such a degree as to be incapable of allowing
their nroper weight to any argmnents in his behalf.

Sucn being the favourable disposition of the Germans, Charles perceived
that nothing could now obstruct his gahiing all that he aimed at, but the fears
and jealousies of the protestants, which he determined to quiet by granting
ever}'thin^ that the utmost solicitude of these passions coidd desire for the
security of their religion. With this view, he consented to a recess, whereby
all the rigoroiis edicts hitherto issued against the protestants were suspended ;

T

322 CHAELES'S NEGOTIATIONS WITH HENRY VIII. [bOOK Mlh

a comicil, eitlier general or national, to be assembled in Germany, was de-
clared necessary, in order to re-estabKsh peace in the clim^ch ; untU one of
these should be held (which the emj^eror undertook to bring about as soon as
possible), the free and public exercise of the protestant religion was autho-
rized; the imperial chamber was enjoined to give no molestation to the
protestants ; and when the term for which the present judges in that court
were elected should expire, persons duly qualified were then to be admitted
as members, without any distinction on account of religion. In return for
these extraordinary acts of indulgence, the protestants concun-ed with the
other members of the diet in declaring war against Francis, in the name of
the empire ; in voting the emperor a body of twenty thousand foot and four
thousand horse, to be maintained at the public expense for six months, to
be employed against France ; and at the same time the diet proposed a poll-
tax to be levied throughout all Germany, on every person without exception,
for the support of the war against the Turks.

Charles, wliile he gave the greatest attention to the minute and intricate
detaU of particulars necessary towards conducting the deliberations of a nu-
merous and divided assembly to such a successful period, negotiated a separate
peace with the king of Denmark, who, though he had hitherto performed
nothing considerable, in consequence of his aUiance with Francis, had it in
his power, however, to make a troublesome diversion in favour of that mo-
narch."* At the same time, he did not neglect proper applications to the
king of England, in order to rouse him to more vigorous efforts against their
common enemy. Little, indeed, was wanting to accomplish this * for such
events had happened in Scotland as inflamed Henry to the most violent pitch
of resentment against Francis. Having concluded with the parliament of
Scotland a treaty of marriage between his son and their young queen, — by
which he reckoned himself secure of effecting the union of the two kingdoms,
which had long been desired, and often attempted without success by his pre-
decessors,— Mary of Guise, the queen-mother. Cardinal Beatoun, and other
partisans of France, found means not only to break off the match, but to
alienate the Scottish nation entirely from the liiendship of England, and to
strengthen its ancient attachment to France. Henry, however, did not aban-
don an object of so much importance ; and as the humbling of Francis, besides
the pleasure of taking revenge upon an enemy who had disappointed a favourite
measure, appeared the most eflfectual method of bringing the Scots to accept
once more of the treaty which they had relinquished, he was so eager to ac-
complish this, that he was ready to second whatever the emperor could pro-
pose to be attempted against the French king. The plan, accordingly, which
they concerted, was such, if it had been punctually executed, as must have
ruined France in the first place, and would have augmented so prodigiously
the emperor's power and territories, as might in the end have proved fatal to
the liberties of Europe, They agreed to invade France, each with an army
of twenty-five thousand men, and, without losing time in besieging the fron-
tier towns, to advance dii-ectly towards the interior provinces, and to join
their forces near Paris.-^

Francis stood alone in opposition to all the enemies whom Charles was
mustering against him. Solyman had been the only ally who did not desert
him; but the assistance which he had received from him had rendered him
so odious to aU. Chiistendom, that he resolved rather to forego all the advan-
tages of his friendship, than to become, on that account, the object of general
detestation. For this reason he dismissed Bai'barossa as soon as winter was

2* Du Mont, Corps Diplora. t. iv. p. u. p. 274.
25 Herbert, p. 245. Mem. de Bellaj, p. 448.

BOOK. VII.] BATTLE OP CEBISOLES. 323

over, who, after ravaging the coast of Naples and Tuscany, returned to Con-
gf,.,>. ;.,,,., I,, j^s jj^Vancis could not hope to equal the forces of so manv powers
c ainst him he endeavoured to supply that defect by despatch,

w: iiore in his power, and to get the start of them in taking the field.

Early lu ihe spring the Count d'Enguien invested Carignan, a town in Pied-
mont, which the Marquis del Guasto, the imperial general, having surprised
the former year, considered as of so much importance, that he had fortified it
at a great expense. The count pusiied the siege with such vigour, that
Guasto, fond of his own conquest, and seeing no other way of saving it from
falling into the hands of the French, resolved to hazard a battle in order to
relieve it. He began his march from Milan for this piirj)ose ; and, as he was
at no pains to conceal his intention, it was soon known in the French camp.
Enguieu, a gallant and enterprising young man, wished passionately to try
the fortune of the battle ; his troops desired it with no less ardour ; but the
peremptory injunction of the king not to venture a general engagement, flow-
mg from a prudent attention to the present situation of ali'au-s, as well as
from the remembrance of former disasters, restrained him from venturing
upon it. Unwilling, however, to abandon Carignan when it was just ready
to yield, and eager to distinguish his command by some memorable action, he
despatched Mouluc to court, in order to lay before the king the advantages
of fighting the enemy, and the hopes which ne had of victory. The king re-
ferred the matter to his privy council ; all the ministers declared, one after
another, against fighting, and supported their sentiments by reasons ex-
tremely plausible. While they were delivering their opinions, Monluc, who
was permitted to be present, discovered such visible and extravagant symp-
toms of impatience to speak, as well as such dissatisfaction with what he
heard, that Francis, diverted Avith his appearance, called on him to declare
what he could oiler in reply to sentiments which seemed to be as just as they
were general. Upon this, Monluc, a plain but spirited soldier, ana of known
courage, represented the good condition of the troops, their eagerness to
meet the enemy in the field, their confidence in their otficers. together with
the everlasting infamy which the declining of a battle would bring on the
French aims ; and he urged his arguments with such a Kvely impetuositv,
and such a flow of military eloquence, as gained over to his opinion, not only
the king, naturally fond ot daring actions, but several of the council. Francis,
catching the same enthusiasm which had animated his troops, suddenly
started up, and having lifted his hands to heaven and implored the divine
protection, he then addressed himself to Monluc : " Go," says he, " return to
riedmont, and fight in the name of God." '^'^

No sooner was it known that the king had given Enguien leave to fight the
imperialists, than, such was the martial ardour of the gallant and high-spirited
gentlemen of that age, that the court was quite deserted, every person de-
sirous of reputation, or capable of service, hurrying to Piedmont, m order to
share, as volunteers, in the danger and glory of the action. Encouraged by
the arrival of so many brave oflicers, Enguien immediately prepared for
battle, nor did Guasto decline the combat. The number of cavalry was
almost equal, but the impend infautrv exceeded the French by at least ten
thousand men. They met near Cerisoles, in an open plain, which afibrded to
neither any advantage of ground, and both had full time to form their army
in proper order. The shock was such as might have been expected between
veteran troops, violent and obstinate. The French cavalry, rushing forward
to the ciiarge with their usual vivacity, bore down everything that opposed
them ; but, on the other hcuid, the steady and disciplined valour of the Spanish

26 Mem. de Monluc
y2

324 OrERATIONS IN THE LOW COUNTfllES. ^ECrOK VII,

infantry haymg forced the body wliicli they encountered to give way, victory
remained in suspense, ready to declare for whichever general could make the
best use of that critical moment. Guasto, engaged ia that part of his army
which was thrown into disorder, and afraid of falling into the hands of the
[French, whose vengeance he dreaded on account of the murder of Rincon
and Pregoso, lost his presence of mind, and forgot to order a large body of re-
serve to advance ; whereas Enguien, with admirable conduct, and equal cou-
rage, supported, at the head of his gens d'armcs, such of his battalions as
began to yield; and, at the same time, he ordered the Swiss in his service,
who had been victorious wherever they fought, to fall upon the Spaniards.
This motion proved decisive. All that followed was confusion and slaughter.
The Marquis del Guasto, wounded in the thigh, escaped only by the swiftness
of his horse. The victory of the French was complete, ten thousand of the
imperialists being slain, and a considerable number, with all their tents,
baggage, and artillery, taken. On the part of the conquerors, their joy was
without alloy, a few only being killed, and among these no officer of dis-
tinction.-^

This splendid action, beside the reputation with which it was attended,
delivered France from an imminent danger, as it ruined the army with which
Guasto had intended to invade the country between the Rhone and Saone,
where there were neither fortified towns nor regular forces to oppose his
progress. But it was not in Francis's power to pursue the victory with
such vigour as to reap all the advantages which it might have yielded ; for
though the Milanese remained now almost defenceless; though the inha-
bitants, who had long murmured under the rigour of the imperial government,
v/ere ready to throw off the yoke; though Enguien, flushed with success,
urged the king to seize this happy opportunity of recovering a country, the
acquisition of which had been long his favourite object ; yet, as the emperor
and king of England were preparing to break in upon the opposite frontier
of France with numerous armies, it became necessary to sacrifice all thoughts
of conquest to the public safety, and to recal twelve thousand of Enguien's
best troops to be employed in defence of the kingdom. Enguien's subsequent
operations were, of consequence, so languid and inconsiderable, that the re-
duction of Carignan and some other towns in Piedmont, was all that he gained
by his great victory at Cerisoles.-^

The emperor, as usual, was late in taking the field ; but he appeared,
towards the beginning of June, at the head of an army more numerous and
better appointed than anv which he had hitherto led against France. It
amounted almost to fifty thousand men ; and part of it having reduced Lux-
embourg and some other towns in the Netherlands, before he himself joined
it, he now marched with the whole towards the frontiers of Champagne.
Charles, according to his agreement with the king of England, ought to have
advanced directly towards Paris ; and the dauphin, who commanded the only
army to which Francis trusted for the security of his dominions in that
quarter, was in no condition to oppose him. But the success with which the
French had defended Provence in the year one thousand five hundred and
thirty-six, had taught them the most efl'ectual method of distressing an in-
vading enemy. Champagne, a country abounding- more in vines than corn,
was incapable of maintaining a great army; and before the emperor's ap-
proach, whatever could be of any use to his troops had been carried off or
destroyed. This rendered it necessary for him to be master of some places
of strength, in order to secure the convoys, on which alone he now perceived

27 Mem. de Bellay, pp. 429, &c. M^m. de Monluc. Jovii Hist. lib. xliv. p. 327, a
88 M6ii. de Bellay, pp. 438, &c.

BOOK VII.] GALLANT DEPENCB OF ST. DISIER. 325

that he must depend for subsistence • and he found the frontier towns so ill
provided for deTence, that he hopea it would not be a work cither of much
time or ditliculty to reduce them. Accordingly, Ligny and Commercy, which
he first attacked, surrendered after a short resistance. He then invested
St. Disier, which, though it commanded an important pass on the Mame, was
destitute of everything necessary for sustaimug a siege. But the Count de
Saneerrc and M. de la Lande, who had acquirea such reputation by the de-
fence of Landrecy, generously threw themselves into the town, and undertook
to hold it out to the last extremity. _ The emperor soon foimd how capable
they were of making good their promise, and that he could not expect to take
the* town without besieging it in form. This accordingly he undertook ; and
as it was his nature never to abandon any enterprise m which he had once
ensraged, he persisted in it with inconsiderate obstinacy.

The king of England's preparations for the campaign were complete long
before the emneror's ; but as he did not choose, on the one hand, to encounter
alone the whole power pi France, and was unwilling, on the other, that his
troops should remain inactive, he took that opportunity of chastising the
Scots, by sending his fleet, together with a considerable part of his infantry,
under the carl of Hertford, to invade their country. Hertford executed his
commission with vigour, plundered and buiiied Edinburgh and Leith, laid
waste the adjacent country, and reimbarked his men with such despatch that
they joined their sovereign soon after his landing in Erance.^^ When Henry
arrived in that kingdom, he found the emperor engaged in the siege of St.
Disier : an ambassador, however, whom he sent to congratulate the English
monarch on his safe arrival on the continent, solicited him to march, in
terms of the treaty, directly to Paris. But Charles had set his ally such an
ill example of fulfilling the conditions of their confederacv with exactness,
that Henry, observing him employ his time and forces in taking towns for his
o^vn behoof, saw no reason wiiy he should not attempt the reduction of some
places that lay conveniently for himself. Without paying any regard to the
emperor's remonstrances, he immediately invested Boulogne, and commanded
the duke of Norfolk to press the siege of Montreuil, wliicli had been begun
before his arrival, by a body of Flemings, in conjunction with some English
troops. While Charles and Heniy showed such attention each to his own
interest they both neglected the common cause. Instead of the union and
confidence requisite towards conducting the great plan that thev had fonned,
they early discovered a mutual jealousy of each other, which, by degrees, begot
distrust, and ended in open hatred.^

By this time, Francis had, with unwearied industry, drawn together an
army, capable, as well from the number as from the valour of the troops, of
making head against the enemy. But the daupliin, who still acted as general,
pnidently declining a battle, the loss of which would have endangered the
kingdom, satisfied himself with harassuig the emperor with his light troops,
cutting off his convoys, and laying waste the countiy around him. Though
extremely distressed by these operations, Charles still pressed the siege of
St. Disier, which Saneerrc defended with astonisliing fortitude and conduct.
He stood repeated assaults, repulsing the enemy in them all; and undis-
mayed even by the death of his brave associate De la Lande, who was killed
bj[ a cannon-ball, he continued to show the same bold countenance and ob-
stinate resolution. At the end of five weeks, he was still in a condition to
hold out for some time longer, when an artifice of Granvell's induced him
to surrender. That crafty politician, having uitereepted the key to the cipher
which the duke of Guise used in communicating intelligence to Sancerre,

I

29 History of Scotland, vol. i. p. 90. *> Herbert.

326 CKAllLES APrKOACILES rilllS, [book VII.

forged a lettei; in his name, authorizing FSancerre to capitulate, as the king,
though highly satisfied with his behaviour, thought it imprudent to hazard a
battle for his relief This letter he conveyed into the town in a manner
which could raise no suspicion, and the governor fell into the snare. Even
then he obtained such honourable conditions as his gallant defence merited,
and, among others, a cessation of hostilities for eight days, at the expiration
of which he bound himself to open the gates, if Francis, during that time,
did not attack the imperial army, and throw fresh troops into the town.^'
Thus Sancerre, by detaining tlie emperor so long before an inconsiderable
place, aiforded his sovereign full time to assemble all his forces, and, what
rarely falls to the lot of an officer in such an inferior command, acquired the
glory of having saved his country.

As soon as St. Disicr surrendered, the emperor advanced into the heart of
Champagne ; but Sancerre's obstinate resistance had damped his sanguine
hopes of penetrating to Paris, and led him seriously to reflect on what he
might expect before towns of greater strength, and defended by more nu-
merous garrisons. At the same time, the procuring subsistence for his army
was attended with great difficulty, which increased in proportion as he with-
drew farther from his own frontier. He had lost a great number of his best
troops in the siege of St. Disier, and many fell daily in skirmishes, which it
was not in his power to avoid, though they wasted his army insensibly, without
leading to any decisive action. The season advanced apace, and he had not yet
the command of a sufficient extent of territory, or of any such considerable
town as rendered it safe to winter in the enemy's country. Great arrears, too,
were now due to his soldiers, who were upon the point of mutinying for their
pay, while he knew not from what funds to satisfy them. All these considera-
tions induced him to listen to the overtures of peace, which a Spanish
Dominican, the confessor of his sister the queen of France, had secretly made
to his confessor, a monk of the same order. In consequence of this, plenipo-
tentiaries were named on both sides, and began their conferences in Chausse,
a small village near Chalons. At the same time, Charles, either from a desire
of making one great final effort against France, or merely to gain a pretext
for deserting his ally, and concluding a separate peace, ^ sent an ambassador
formally to require Henry, according to the stipulation in their treaty, to ad-
vance towards Paris. While he expected a return from him, and waited the
issue of the conferences at Chausse, he continued to march forward, though
in the utmost distress from scarcity of provisions. But, at last, by a fortu-
nate motion on his part, or through some neglect or treachery on that of the
French, he surprised first Espemay, and then Chateau Thierry, in both
which were considerable magazines. No sooner was it known tliat these
towns, the latter of which is not two days' march from Paris, were in the
hands of the enemy, than that great capital, defenceless, and susceptible of
any violent alarm in proportion to its greatness, was filled with consternation.
The inhabitants, as if the emperor had been already at their gates, fled in the
wildest confusion and despair, many sending their wives and children down.
the Seine to Rouen, others to Orleans, and the towns upon the Loire. Francis
himself, more afiiictcd with this than with any other event during his rei^n,
and sensible as well of the triumph that his rival would enjoy in insulting his
capital, as of the danger to which the kingdom was exposed, could not refrain
from crying out, in the first emotion of his surprise and sorrow, " How dear,
O my God, do I pay for this crown, which I thought thou hadst granted me
freely ! " ^' but recovering in a moment from this sudden sally of peevish-
ness and impatience, he devoutly added, "Thy will, however, be done;"' and

31 Brantome, torn. vi. p. 489. 32 ii^i^, p. 331.

BOOK VII.] PEACE CONCLUDED AT dfiOiSPY. 327

i.,ro' aecessary orders for opposing the enemv with his iisasJ

;tcti\ :. • of niiad. The dauphi^ ^e+ached eight thousand men to

Paris, \vliieh revived tlie courasre of the affrignieci citizens • lie threw a strong
garrison into jVIeaux, and by a forced march got into Eerte, between the im-
riidists and the capital.

Upon this, the emperor, who began again to feel the want of provisions,

erceiving that the dauphm still }3rudently declined a battle, and not daring

attack liis camp with forces so much shattered and reduced by hard

rvice, turned suddenly to the right, and began to fall back towards Soia-

ns. Having about this time received Henr/s answer, whereby he refused

o abandon the sieges of Boulogne and Montreuil, both of which he expected

very moment to get possession, he thought himself absolyed from all ob-

ations of atlhering to the treaty with him, and at full liberty to consult

I own interest in what manner soever he pleased. He consented, therefore,

renew the conference, which the surprise of Espernay had broken oif. To

nclude a peace between two princes, one of whom greatly desired, and the

ther greatly needed it, did not require a long negotiation. It was signed at

respy, a small town near Meaux, on the eighteenth of September. Tlie chief

'ticles of it were, That all the conquests which either party had made since

he truce of Is ice shall be restored ; that the emperor shall give in marriage

o the duke of Orleans, either his own eldest daughter, or the second daughter

of his brother Ferdmand ; that if he chose to bestow on him his own daughter,

he shall settle on her all the provinces of the Low Countries, to be erected

to an independent state, which shall descend to the male issue of the

arriage ; that if ho determined to give him his niece, he shall with her grant

m the investitui'c of Milan and its dependencies ; that he shall within four

onths declare which of these two princesses he had pitched upon, and

dfil the respective conditions upon the consummation of the marriage, which

hall take place witliin a year from the date of the treaty ; that as soon as the

uke of Orleans is put in possession either of the Low Countries or of Milan,

Trancis shall restore to the duke of Savoy all that he now possesses of his

teiTitories, except Pignerol and Montmiiian; that Francis shall renounce

all pretensions to the kingdom of Naples, or of the sovereignty of Flanders

and!^ Artois, and Charles shall give up his claim to the duchy of Bui-gundy and

county of Charolois ; that Francis shall give no aid to the exiled kmg of Na-

vaiTC ; that both monarchs shall join in making war upon the Turk, towards

which the king shall furnish, when required by the emperor and empire, six

hundred men-at-arms, and ten thousand foot.^^

Besides the immediate motives to this peace, arising from the distress of
his, army through want of provisions ; from the difficulty of retreating out of
France; and the impossibility of securing winter-quarters there; the em-

Iperor ^yas influenced by other considerations, more distant, indeed, but not
less weighty. The pope was offended to a great degree, as well at his con-
cessions to the protestants in the late diet, as at his consenting to call a
council, and to admit of public disputations in Germany with a view of de-
termining the doctrines in controverey. Paul, considering both these steps
AS sacrilegious encroachments on the jurisdiction as well as privileges of the
holy see, had addressed to the emperor a remonstrance rather than a letter
on this subject, \vritten with such acrimony of languag-e, and in a style of such
high authority, as discovered more of an mtention to draw on a quarrel than
of a desire to reclaim liim. This ill-humour wasnot a little iufiamed by- the em-
peror's league with Henry of England, which being contracted with a heretic,
i

" Kecueil des Trait^s, torn. i. p. 227. Beliua de Cati&ja Pacis Crepuic. in Actis Erupt.
; Lips. 1736.

328 CIIAELES CHANGES HIS POLICY. [BOOK VII.

excommunicated by the apostolic see, appeared to the pope a profane al-
liance, and was not less dreaded by hun than that of Erancis with Solyman.
Paul's son and grandson, highly incensed at the emperor for having refused to
gratify them with regard to the alienation of Parma and Placentia, con.-
tributed by their suggestions to sour and disgust him stiU more. To ail
which was added the powerful operation of the flattery and promises wiiich
Prancis incessantly employed to gain liim. Though, from his desire of main-
taining a neutrality, the pope had hitherto suppressed his own resentment,
had eluded the artifices of his own family, and resisted the solicitations of the
Prench king, it was not safe to rely much on the steadiness of a man whom
his passions, his friends, and his interest combined to shake. The union of the
pope with Prance, Charles well knew, would instantly expose his dominions
m Italy to be attacked. The Venetians, he foresaw, would probably follow
the example of a pontiff, who was considered as a model of political wisdom
among the Italians ; and thus, at a juncture when he felt hmiself hardly equal
to the burden of the present war, he would be overwhelmed with the weight
of a new confederacy agamst hira.^'' At the same time, the Turks, almost
unresisted, made such a progress in Hungary, reducing town after town, that
they approached near to the confines of the Austrian provinces.^^ Above all
these, the extraordinary progress of the protestant doctrines in Germany, and
the dangerous combination into which the princes of that profession had
entered, called for his immediate attention. Almost one-half of Germanv
had revolted from the established church ; the fidelity of the rest was much
shaken ; the nobility of Austria had demanded of Perdinand the free exercise
of religion ;^ the Bohemians, among whom some seeds of the doctrines of
Huss still remained, openly favoured the new opuiions ; the archbishop of
Cologne, with a zeal which is seldom found aniong ecclesiastics, had begun
the reformation of his diocese ; nor was it possible, unless some timely and
effectual check were given to the spirit of innovation, to foresee where it
would end. He hunself had been a. witness, in the late diet, to the peremp-
tory and decisive tone which the protestants had now assumed. He had seen
how, from confidence in their number and union, they had forgotten the
humble style of their first petitions, and had grown to such boldness as
openly to despise the pope, and to show no great reverence for the imperial
dignity itself. If, therefore, he ^vished to mamtaiu either the ancient religion
or his own authority, and would not choose to dwindle into a mere nominal
head of the empire, some vigorous and speedy effort was requisite on his
part, which could not be made during a war that required the greatest
exertion of his strength against a foreign and powerful enemy.

Such being the emperor's inducements to peace, he had the address to
frame the treaty of Crespy so as to promote all the ends which he had in
view. By coming to an agreement with Prancis, he took from the pope all
prospects of advantage in courting the friendship of that monarch in pre-
ference to his. By the proviso with regard to a war with the Turks, he not
only deprived Solyman of a powerful ally, but turned the arms of that ally
agauist him. By a private article, not inserted ui the treaty, that it might
not raise any unseasonable alarm, he agreed with Prancis that both should
exert all their influence and power in order to procure a general council, to
assert its authority, and to exterminate the protestant heresy out of their do-
minions. This cut off all chance of assistance whicli the confederates of
Smalkalde might expect from the Prench king f' and lest their solicitations,
or liis jealousy of an ancient rival, should hereafter tempt Prancis to forget

3* P. Paul, p. 100. Pallavic. p. 163. ^s Istuanhaffii Hist. Hung. p. 177.

3« Sleid. p. 285. " Seek. lib. iii. p. 496.

BOOK Yll.] THE PEACE DISSATISFIES THE DAUPIIIN. 329

this engagement, he left him embarrassed with a war against England, which
would. put it out of his power to take any considerable part in the affairs of
Grermany.

Henry, possessed at all times with a high idea of his own po\yer and im-
portance, felt, in the most sensible manner, the neglect with which the em-
peror had treated liini in concluding a separate peace. But the situation of
his aiffiii's "was such as somewhat alleviated the mortification which this occa-
sioned. For though he was obliged to recal the duke of Norfolk from the
siege of Montreuil, because the Flemish troops received orders to retire, Bou-
logne had surrendered before the negotiations at Crespy were brought to an
issue. While elated Avith vanity on account of this conquest, and inflamed
■with indignation against the emperor, the ambassadors whom Francis sent
to make overtures of peace, found him too arrogant to grant what was mode-
rate or equitable. His demands were indeed extravagant, and made in the
tone of a conqueror ; that Francis should renounce his alliance with Scotland,
and not only pay up the arrears of former debts, but reimburse the money
which Henry had expended in the present war. Francis, though sincerely
desirous of peace, ana willing to yield a great deal in order to attain it, being
now free from the pressure of the imperial arms, rejected these i^ominious
propositions with disdain; and Henry departing for England, hostilities con-
tinued between the two nations.^^

The treaty of peace, how acceptable soever to the people of France, whom
it dcHvered from the dread of an enemy who had penetrated into the heart
of the kingdom, was loudly complained of by the dauphin. He considered it
as a manifest proof of the king his father's extraordinary partiality towards
his younger brother, now duke of Orleans, and complamed that, from his
eagerness to gain an establishment for a favourite son^ he had sacrificed the
honour of the kingdom, and renounced the most ancient as well as valuable
rights of the crown. But as he durst not venture to offend the king by re-
fusing to ratify it, though extremely desirous at the same time of securing
to himself the privilege of reclaiming what was now alienated so much to his
detriment, he secretly protested, in presence of some of his adherents, against
the whole transaction ; and declared whatever he should be obliged to do in
order to confirm it, null in itself, and void of all obUgation. The parliament
of Thoulouse, probablv by the instigation of his partisans, did the same.^
But Francis, highly pleased as well with having delivered his subjects from
the miseries of an invasion, as with the prospect of acquiring an independent
settlement for his son at no greater price than that or renouncing conquests
to which he had no just claim; titles which had brought so much expense and
so many disasters upon the nation ; and rights grown obsolete and of no value ;
ratified the treatv with great joy. Charles, Avithin the time prescribed by the
treaty, declared his intention of giving Ferdinand's daughter in marriage to
the duke of Orleans, together with the duchy of Milan as her dowry.** Every
circumstance seemed to promise the continuance of peace. The emperor,
cruelly afilieted with the gout, appeared to be in no condition to undertake
any enterprise where great activity was requisite, or much fatigue to be en-
dured. He himself felt this, or wished at least that it should be believed ;
and bein^ so much disabled oy this excruciating distemper, when a French
ambassador followed him to Brussels, in order to be present at his ratification
of the treaty of peace, that it was with the utmost difficulty that he signed his
name, he observed, that there was no great danger of his violating these ar-

»« Mem. (le Ribier, torn. i. p. 572. Herbert, p. 244.
» Recueil des Traite's, torn. ii. pp. 235, 238.
« Ibid, torn. ii. p. 238.

330 DIET AT \TOEirS [BOOK YSI.

ticleSj as a hand that couJd hardly hold a pen was little able to Drandish a
lance. .

The violence of liis disease confined the emperor several months in Brussels,
and was the apparent cause of putting oif the execution of the great scheme
whicli he had formed in order to humble the protestaut party in Germany.
But there were other reasons for tliis delay. Por, however prevalent the
motives v/ere which determined him to undertake this enterprise, the nature
of that great body which he was about to attack, as well as the situation of
his own affairs, made it necessary to deliberate long, to proceed with caution,
and not too suddenly to throw aside the veil under which he had hitherto
concealed his real sentiments and schemes. He was sensible that the pro-
testants, conscious of their own strength, but under continual apprehensions
of Ms designs, had all the boldness of a powerful confederacy, joined to the
jealousy of a feeble faction ; and were no less quick-sighted to discern the
first appearance of danger, than ready to take arms in order to repel it. At
the same time, he still continued involved in a Turkish war ; and though, in
order to deliver himself from this incumbrance, he had determined to send an
envoy to the Porte with most advantageous and even submissive overtures
"of peace, the resolutions of that haughty court were so uncertain, that, before
these were known, it would have been highly imprudent to have kindled the
llames of civil war in his own dominions.

Upon this account he appeared dissatisfied with a bull issued by the pope
immediately after the peace of Crespy, summoning the council to assemble
at Trent early next spring, and exhorting aU Christian princes to embrace
the opportunity that the present happy interval of tranquillity afforded them,
af suppressing those heresies which threatened to subvert whatever was sacred
or venerable among Christians. But, after such a slight expression of delight,
as was necessary in order to cover his designs, he deteraiined to countenance
the council, which might become no inconsiderable instrument towards ac-
complishing his projects, and therefore not only appointed ambassadors to
appear there in his name, but ordered the ecclesiastics in his dominions to
attend at the time prefixed.*^ _

Such were the emperor's views, when the imperial diet, after several pro-
rogations, was opened at Worms [March 24, 1545]. The protestants, who
enjoyed the free exercise of their religion by a very precarious tenure, having
no other security for it than the recess of the last diet, which was to continue
in force only until the meeting of a council, wished earnestly to establish that
important privilege upon some firmer basis, and to hold it by a perpetual, not
a temporary title. But, instead of offering them any additional security, Fer-
dinand opened the diet with observing, that there were two points which
chiefly required consideration — the prosecution of the v/ar against the Turks,
and the state of religion ; that the former was the most urgent, as Solyman,
after conquering the greatest part of Hungary, was now ready to fall upon
the Austrian provinces ; that the emperor, who, from the beginning of his
reign, had neglected no opportunity of annoying this formidable enemy, and
with the hazard of his own person had resisted his attacks, being animated
still with the same zeal, had now consented to stop short in the career of his
success against France, that, in conjunction with his ancient rival, he might
turn his arms with greater vigour against the common adversary of the
Christian faith; that it became all the members of the empire to second those
pious endeavours of its head ; that, therefore, tney ought, without delay, to
vote him such effectual aid, as not only thek duty, but their interest called

« F. Paul, p. 104.

BOOK VII,] THE EMPEROR ABJEUVXS AT WOUMS. 331

upon them to furnish ; that the controversies about religion were so intricate,
and of such difficult discussion, as to give no hope of its being possible to
bring tlieiu at present to an\ liiial issue ; tliat by pci-severaiiec and repeated
solicilations the emperor had at length prevailed on the pope to call a council,,
for which they had so often wished and petitioned ; but the time appointed for
its meeting was now come, and both parties ought to wait for its decrees, and
submit to tlicni as tlie decisions of the universal Qliurch.

The popish members of the diet received this declaration with great ap-
plause, and signified their entire acqui6scenee in every paiiicular which it con-
tained. The protestants expressed great surprise at propositions which w^ere
so manifestly repugnant to the recess of the former diet : they insisted that
the questions with regard to religion, as first in dignity ana importance, ought
to come first under deliberation ; that, alarming as the progress of the Turks
was to all Germany, the securing the free exercise of their religiou touched
them still more nearly, nor could they prosecute a foreign war with spirit
while solicitous and uncertain about their domestic tranquillity ; that if the
latter were once rendered firm and permanent, they would concur with their
countrymen in pushing the former, and yield to none of them in activity or
zeal. Uut if the danger from the Turkish arms were indeed so imminent, as
not to admit of such a delay as would be occasioned by an immediate ex-
amination of the controverted points in religion, they required that a diet
should be instantly appointed, to which the final settlement of their religious
disputes should be referred; and that in the meantime the decree of the
former diet concerning rehgion should be explained in a point which they
deemed essential. By the recess of Spires it was provided, that they should
enjoy unmolested the public exercise of their religion, untD. the meeting of a
legal council ; but as the pope had now called a councO, to which Eerdinaiid
had required them to submit, they began to suspect that their adversaries
might take advantage of an ambiguity in the terms of the recess, and pre-
tending that the event therein mentioned had now taken place, might pro-
nounce them to be no longer entitled to the same indulgence. In order to
guard against this interpretation, they renewed their former remonstrances
against a council called to meet without the bounds of the empire, summoned
by the pope's authority, and in which he assumed the right of presiding ; and
declared that, notwithstanduig the convocation of an/ such illegal assembly,
they still held the recess of the late diet to be in full force.

At other junctures, when the emperor thought it of advantage to soothe
and gain the protestants, he had devised expedients forgivmg them satis-
faction with regard to demands seemingly more extravagant • out his views
at present beiug very difterent, i'erdinaud, by his command, adhered inflexibly
to his first propositions, and would make no concessions which had the most
remote tendency to throw discredit on the council, or to weaken its authority.
The protestants, on their part, were no less inflexible ; and after much time
spent in fruitless endeavours to convince each other, they came to no agree-
ment. Nor did the presence of the emperor, who, upon his recovery, arrived
at Worms, contribute in any degree to render the protestants more compliant.
Fully convinced that they were maintaining the cause of God and of truth,
they showed themselves superior to the allurements of interest, or the sug-
gestions of fear ; and in proportion as the emperor redoubled his soheita-
tions, or discovered his designs, their boldness seems to have increased. At
last they openly declared, that they would not even deign to vindicate then*
tenets in presence of a council assembled not to examine, but to condemn
them ; and that they would pay no regard to an assembly held under the in-
fluence of a pope, who had ali-eady precluded himself from all title to act as

332 THE PilOTESTANTS SUSPECT THE EMPEROR. [BOOK VIL

a judge, by his having stigmatized their opimons by the name of heresy, and
denounced against them the heaviest censures, which, in the plenitude of his
usurped power, he could inflict."

While the protestants, with such union as well as firmness, rejected all
intercourse with the council, and refused their assent to their imperial demands
in respect to the Turkish war, Maurice of Saxony alone showed an iiicHnation
to gratify the emperor with regard to both. Though he professed an inviolable
regard for the protestant religion, he assumed an appearance of moderation
peculiar to himself, by which he confirmed the favourable sentiments which
the emperor already entertained of him, and gradually paved the way for exe-
cuting the ambitious designs which always occupied his active and enter-
prising mind.*^ His example, however, had little influence upon such as
agreed with him in their religious opinions ; and Charles perceived that he
could not hope either to procure present aid from the protestants against the
Turks, or to quiet their fears and jealousies on account of their reHgion.
But, as his schemes were not yet ripe for execution, nor his preparations so
far advanced that he could force the comjpHance of the protestants, or punish
their obstinacy, he artfully concealed his own intentions. That he might
augment their security, he appouited a diet to be held at Ratisbon early next
vear, in order to adjust what was now left undetermined- and previous to it,
he agreed that a certain number of diviaes of each party should meet, in order
to confer upon the poiats in dispute.**

But, how far soever this appearance of a desire to maiatain the present
tranquillity might have imposed upon the protestants, the emperor was in-
capable of such uniform and thorough dissimulation, as to hide altogether from
their view the dangerous designs which he was meditating against them.
Herman, count de Wied, archbishop and elector of Cologne, a prelate con-
spicuous for his virtue and primitive simplicity of maimers, though not more
distinguished for learning than the other descendants of noble families, who
in that age possessed most of the great benefices in Germany, having become
a proselvte to the doctrines of the reformers, had begun, in the year one
thousand five hundred and forty-three, with the assistance of Melancthon and
Bucer, to abolish the ancient superstition ia his diocese, and to introduce in
its place the rites established among the protestants. But the canons of his
cathedral, who were no't possessed with the same spirit of itmovation, and who
foresaw how fatally the levelling genius 9f the ne\y sect vrould prove to their
dignity and wealth, opposed, from the beginning, this unprecedented enterprise
of their archbishop, with all the zeal flowing from reverence for old insti-
tutions, heightened by concern for their own interest. This opposition, which
the archbishop considered only as a new argument to demonstrate the ne-
cessity of a reformation, neither shook his resolution, nor slackened his ardour
in prosecutitig his plan. The canons, perceiving all their endeavours to check
his career to be ineffectual, solemnly protested against his proceedings, and
appealed for redress to the pope and emperor, the former as his ecclesiastical,
the latter as his civil superior. This appeal beiag laid before the emperor,
during his residence in Worms, he took the canons of Cologne under his
immediate protection ; enjoined them to proceed with rigour against all who
revolted from the established church ; prohibited the archbishop to make any
innovation in his diocese ; and summoned him to appear at Brussels within
thirty days, to answer the accusations which should he preferred against him."

To this clear evidence of liis hostile intentions against the protestant party,

« Skid. pp. 343, &c. Seek. lib. iil. pp. 543, &c. Thuan. Hist, lib. ii. p. 66.
*3 Seek. lib. iii. p. 571. " Sleid. p. 351.

♦5 Sleid. pp. 310, 340, 351. Seek. lib. iii. pp. 443, 553.

I

BOOK YII.] DKATK OF TU£ DUKE OF OELEAKS. 333

Charles added other proofs still more explicit. In his hereditary dominions
of the Low Countries, he pei-secuted all who were suspected of Lutheranism
with unrelenting vigoiu-. As soon as he arrived at n orms, he silenced the
protestant preachers in that city. He allowed an Italian monk to inveigh
against the Lutherans from the pulpit of his chapel, and to call upon him, as
he regarded the favour of God, to exterminate that pestilent heresy. He de-
spatched the embassy, which has been already mentioned, to Constantinople,
with overtures of peace, that he might be tree from any apprehensions of
danger or interruption from that quarter. Nor did any of these steps, or
their dangerous tendency, escape the jealous observation of the protestants,
or fail to alarm their fears, and to excite their solicitude for the safety or
their sect.

Meanwhile, Charles's good fortune, which predominated on all occasions
oyer that of his rival Francis, extTicated him out of a dif&culty, from which,
with all his sagacity and address, he would have found it no easy matter to
have disentanglecl himself. Just about the time when the duke of Orleans
should have received Ferdinand's daughter in marriage, and together with
her the possession of the Milanese, he died of a malignant fever. By this
event, the emperor was freed from the necessity of giving w^ a valuable
province into the hands of an enemy, or from the indecency ol violating a
recent and solemn engagement, which must have occasioned an immediate
rupture with France. He affected, however, to express great sorrow for the
untimely death of a young prince, who was to have been so nearly allied to
him • but he carefully avoided entering into any fresh discussions concerning
the Milanese ; and would not listen to a proposal which came from Francis,
of new-modelling the treaty of Crespy, so as to make him some reparation for
the advantages wliich he had lost by the demise of his son. In the more active
and vigorous part of Francis's reign, a declaration of war would have been the
certain and instantaneous consequence of such a flat refusal to comply Avith a
demand seemingly so equitable ; but the declining state of Ids own health, the
exhausted condition of his kingdom, together with the burden of the war
against England, obliged him, at present, to dissemble Ms resentment, and to
put off thoughts of revenge to some other juncture. In consequence of this
event, the unfortunate duke of Savoy lost all hope of obtaining the restitution
of his territories ; and the rights or claims relinquished by the treaty of
Crespy returned in full force to the crown of France, to serve as pretexts for
future wars."

Upon the first intelligence of the duke of Orleans' death, the confederates
of Smalkalde flattered themselves that the esseutial alterations which ap-
peared to be unavoidable consequences of it could hardly fail of producing a
rupture, which would prove the means of their safety. But they were not
more disappointed with regard to this, than in their expectations from an
event which seemed to be the certain prelude of a quarrel between the em-
peror and the pope. When Paul, whose passion for aggrandizing his faniily
increased as he advanced in years, and as he saw the dignity and power wliich
they derived immediately from him becoming more precarious, found that he
could not bring Charles to approve of his ambitious schemes, he ventured to
grant his son Peter Lewis the investiture of Parma and Placentia, though at
the risk of incurring the displeasure of the emperor. At a time when a
great part of Europe inveighed openly against the corrupt manners and ex-
orbitant power of ecclesiastics, and when a council was summoned to reform
the disorders in the church, this indecent grant of such a principality, to a
son, of whose illegitimate birth the pope ought to have been ashamed, and

♦6 Belcarii Comment, p. 769. Paruta, Hist. Venet. iv. p] 177.

33^. BEFORMATION OF THE PALATINATE. [iiOOM \II.

whose licentious morals all good men detested, gave general offence. Some
cardinals in the imperial interest remonstrated against such an unl)ecomin!»
alienation of the patrimony of the church ; the Spanish ambassador would not
be present at the solemnity of his infeotfment ; and, upon pretext that these
cities were part of the Milanese state, the emperor peremptorily refused to
confirm the deed of iiivestiture. But both the emperor and pope being intent
upon one common object in Germany, they sacrificed their particular passions
to that public cause, and suppressed the emotions of jealousy or resentment
which were rising on this occasion, that they might jointly pursue what each
deemed to be of greater importance.*^

About this time the peace of Germany was disturbed by a short but violent
irruption of Henry, duke of Brunswick. This prince, though still stripped of
his dominions, which the emperor held in sequestration, until his differences
with the confederates of Smalkalde should be adjusted, possessed however so
much credit in Germany, that he undertook to raise for the French king a
considerable body of troops to be employed in the war against England. The
money stipulated for this purpose was duly advanced by Francis ; the troops
were levied; but Henry, instead of leading them towards France, suddenly
entered his own dominions at their head, in hopes of recovering possession of
them before any army could be assembled to oppose him. The confederates
were not more surprised at this unexpected attack, than the king of France
was astonished at a mean thievish fraud, so unbecoming the character of a
prince. But the landgrave of Hesse, with incredible expedition, collected as
many men as put a stop to the progress of Henry's undisciplined forces, and
being joined by his son-in-law, Maurice, and by some troops belonging to the
elector of Saxony, he gained such advantages over Henry, who was rash and
bold in forming his schemes, but feeble and undetermined in executing them,
as obliged him to disband his army, and to surrender himself, together with,
his eldest son, prisoners at discretion. He Avas kept in close confinement,
until a new reverse of affairs procured him liberty.''®

[1546.] As this defeat of Henry's wild enterprise added new reputation to
the arms of the protestants, the establishment of the protestant religion in
the palatinate brought a great accession of strength to their party. Frederick,
who succeeded his brother Lewis in tliat electorate, had long been suspected
of a secret propensity to the doctrines of the reformers, which, upon his ac-
cession to the principahty, he openly manifested. But, as he expected that
something effectual towards a general and legal establishment of religion
would be the fruit of so many diets, conferences, and negotiations, he did not,
at first, attempt any public innovation in his dominions. Finding all these
issue in nothing, he thought himself called, at length, to countenance by his
authority the system which he approved of, and to gratify the wishes of his
subjects, who, by their intercourse with the protestant states, had almost
universally imbibed their opinions. As the warmth and impetuosity which
accompanied the spirit of reformation in its first efforts had somewhat abated,
this change was made with great order and regularity ; the ancient rites were
abolished, and new forms introduced, without any acts of \dolence, or symptom
of discontent. Though Frederick adopted the religious system of the pro-
testants, he imitated the example of Maurice, and did not accede to the
lea^e of Smalkalde.*^

A few weeks before this revolution in the palatinate, the general council
was opened with the accustomed solemnities at Trent. The eyes of the ca-
tholic states were turned with much expectation towards an aasemkiy, which

" Paruta, Hist. Venet. iv. p. 178. Pallavic. p. 180.

« Sleid. p. 352. Seek. lib. iii. p. 667. « ibid. p. 356. Ibid, lib., iii, p. 616,

I

BOOK VII.] THB COUNCIL OP TBENT. 335

all had considered as capable of applying an effectual remedy for the dis-
orders of the church wlieu they lirst broke out, thou2:h many were afi*aid that
it was now too late to hope for great benefits from it, wlicn the niaiady, by

h- •■''■'red to increase during twcuiy-cight years, had become inveterate

10 such extreme violence. The pope, by his last bull of convocation,
L iiicd the lirst meeting to be held in March. But his views and those

of the emperor were so diHerent, that almost the whole year was spent in
negotiations. Charles, who foresaw that the rigorous decrees of the council
; ■ ' ' protestauts would soon drive them, m self-defence as well as from
, to some desperate extreme, laboured to put off its meeting until
luo .. .i.xi.^o preparations were so far advanced, that he might be in a condition
to second its decisions by the force of his arms. The pope, who had early
sent to Trent the legates who were to preside in his name, knowing to what
contempt it would expose his authority, and what suspicions it would beget
of his mtentions, if the fathers of the council should remain in a state of
inactivity, when the church was in such danger as to require their immediate
and vigorous interposition, insisted either upon tra,nslating tlie council to
some city in Italy, or upon suspending altogether its proceedings at that
juncture, or upon authorizing it to begin its deliberations immediately. The
emperor rejected the two former expedients as equally offensive to the Ger-
mans of every denomination ; but, finding it impossible to elude the latter, he
proposed that the council should begin with reforming the disorders in the
church, before it proceeded to examine or define articles of faith. This was
the very thing which the coiu-t of Rome dreaded most, and which had
prompted it to employ so many artifices in order to prevent the meeting of
such a dangerous judicatory. Paul, though more compliant than some of his
predecessors with regard to calling a council, was no less jealous than they
had been of its jurisoietion, and saw what matter of triumph such a method
of proceeding would allbrd the heretics. He apprehended consequences not
only humblinj' but fatal to the papal see, if the council came to consider an
inquest into abuses as their only business; or if inferior prelates were allowed
to gratilV their own envy and peevishness by prescribing rules to those who
were exalted above them in dignity and power. Without listening, therefore,
to this insidious proposal of the emperor, he instructed his legates to open
the council.

The first session \vas spent in matters of form. In a subsequent one, it was
agreed that the framing a confession of faith, wherein should be contained
^the articles which the church required its members to believe, oug-ht to be
the first and principal business of the council ; but that, at the same time,
due attention should be given to what was necessary towards the reformation
of manners and discipline. Trom this first symptom of the spirit with which
the council was animated, from the high tone of authority wliich the legates
who presided in it assumed, and from the implicit deference with which most
of the members followed their directions, the protestauts conjectuied with
ease what decisions they might expect. It astonished them, however, to see
forty prelates (for no greater number was yet assembled) assmne authority
as representatives of the universal church, and proceed to detenuine the
most important points of doctrine in its name. Sensible of this indecency,
as well as of the ridicule with which it might be attended, the council ad-
vanced slowly in its deliberations, and all its ;^roceedings were for some time
languishing and feeble.^** As soon as the contederates of Smalkalde received
information of the opening of the council, they published a long manifesto,
containing a renewal of their protest against its meeting, together with the

*« F. Paul, p. 120, &c. Pallav. p. 180, &c.

386 A.PPREHENSIONS 01 THE PKOTESTANTS. [BOOK VII.

reasons which mduced them to decline its jurisdiction,^^ The pope and em-
peror, on their part, were so little solicitous to quicken or add vigour to its
operations, as plainly discovered that some object of greater importance oc-
cupied and interested them.

The protestants were not inattentive or unconcerned spectators of the
motions of the sovereign pontiff and of Charles, and they entertained every
day more violent suspicions of their intentions, in consequence of intelligence
received from different quarters of the machinations carrying on against them.
The king of England informed them, that the emperor, having long resolved
to exterminate their opinions, would not fail to employ this interval of tran-
quillity which he now enjoyed, as the most favourable juncture for carrying
his design into execution. The merchants of Augsburg, which was at that
time a city_ of extensive trade, received advice, by means of their corre-
spondents in Italy, among whom were some who secretly favoured the pro-
testant cause,^'^ that a dangerous confederacy against it was forming between
the pope and emperor. In confirmation of this, they heard from the Low
Countries that Charles had issued orders, though with every precaution
which could keep the measure concealed, for raising troops both there and
in other parts of his dominions. Such a variety of information, corroborating
all that their own jealousy or observation led them to apprehend, left the
protestants little reason to_ doubt of the emperor's hostile intentions. Under
this impression, the deputies of the confederates of Smalkalde assembled at
Francfort, and, by communicating their intelligence and sentiments to each
other, reciprocally heightened their sense of the impending danger. But their
union was not such as their situation required, or the preparations of their
enemies rendered necessary. Their league had now subsisted ten years.
Among so many members, whose territories were intermingled with each
other, and who, acccording to the custom of Germany, had created an infinite
variety of mutual rights and claims by intermarriages, alliances, and contracts
of ditierent kinds, subjects of jealousy and discord had unavoidably arisen.
Some of the confederates, being connected with the duke of Brunswick, were
higlily disgusted with the landgrave, on account of the rigour with which he
had treated that rash and unfortunate prince. Others taxed the elector of
Saxony and landgrave, the heads of the league, with having involved the
members in unnecessary and exorbitant expenses by their profuseness or
want of economy. The views, likewise, and temper of those two princes,
who bv their superior power and authority influenced and directed the whole
body, being extremely different, rendered all its motions languid, at a time
when the utmost vigour and despatch were requisite. The landgrave, of a
violent and enterprising temper, but not forgetful, amidst his zeal for religion,
of the usual maxims of human policy, insisted that, as the danger which
threatened them was manifest and unavoidable, they should have recourse to
the most effectual expedient for securing their own safety, by courting the
protection of the kings of France and England, or by joining in alhance
with the protestant cantons of Switzerland, from whom they might expect
such powerful and present assistance as their situation demanded. The
elector, on the other hand, with the most upright intentions of any prince in
that age, and with talents which might have qualified Mm abundantly for
the administration of government in any tranquil period, was possessed with
such superstitious veneration for aU the parts of the Lutheran system, and
such bigoted attachment to aU its tenets, as made him averse to an union
with those who differed from liim in any article of faith, and rendered him
very incapable of undertaking its defence in times of diflicidty and danger.

" Seek. lib. iii. p. 602, &c. " Ibid. lib. iii. p. 579.

BOOK VII,] TILE CONFERENCE ABRUFTLY TERMINATID. 33?

He seemed to think that the coneerns of religion were to be regulated by
prineiplcs and maxims totally diiicrent from those which apply to the common
affairs of life ; and being swayed too much by the opinions of Luther, who
was not only a stranger to the itJcs of political conduct, but despised them,
he often discovered an uncomplying spirit that proved of the greatest detri-
ment to the cause which he fished to support. Influenced, on this occasion,
by the severe and rigid notions of that reformer, he refused to enter into
any confederacy with Francis, because he was a persecutor of the truth; or
to solicit the friendship of Henry, because he was no less impious and pro-
fane than the pope himself, or even to join in alliance with the Swiss, because
they diflered li-om the Germans in several essential articles of faith. This dis-
sension, about a point of such consequence, produced its natural effects.
Each secretly censured and reproached the other. The landgrave considered
the elector as fettered by narrow prejudices, unworthy of a prince called to
act a chief i)art in a scene of such importance. The elector suspected the
landgrave ot loose principles and ambitious ^dews, which corresponded iU
with the sacred cause wherein they were engaged. But though the elector's
scruples prevented their timely application for foreign aid; and the jealousy
or discontent of the other princes defeated a proposal for renewing their
original confederacy, the term dm-ing which it was to continue in force being
on the point of expiring ; yet the sense of their common danger induced them
to agree -vvith regard to other points, particularly that they would never ac-
knowledge the assembly of Trent as a la^vflll council, nor suffer the arch-
bishop of Cologne to be oppressed on account of the steps which he had
taken towards the refonnation of his diocese."

Tiie landgrave, about tliis time, desirous of penetrating to the bottom of
the emperor's intentions, wrote to Granvelle, whom he knew to be thoroughly
acquainted with all his master's schemes, informing him of the several parti-
culars wliieh raised the suspicions of the protestants, and beggmg an explicit
declaration of what they had to fear or to hope. Granvelle, in return, assured
them that the intelligence w^hich they had received of the emperor's military

S reparations was exaggerated, and all their suspicions destitute 9f foun-
ation ; that though, m order to guai-d his frontiers against any insult of
the French or English, he had commanded a small body of men to be raised
in the Low Countries, he was as solicitous as ever to maintain tranquillity in
Germanv.**

But the emperor's actions did not correspond with these professions of his
minister. Eor, instead of appointing men of kno^^^l moderation and a pacitio
temper to appear in defence of the catholic doctrines at the conference which
had been agreed on, he made choice of tierce bigots, attached to their own-
system with a blind obstinacy, that rendered all hope of a reconcilement despe-
rate. Malvenda, a Spanish divine, who took upon him the conduct of the
debate on the part of the cathoUcs, managed it with all the subtle dexterity
of a scholastic metaphysician, more studious to perplex liis adversaries than,
to convince them, and more intent on palliating error than on discovering
truth. The protestants, tilled with indignation, as well at his sophistry as at
some regulations which the emperor endeavoured to impose on the dis-
putants, broke off' the conference abruptly, being now fully convinced that, in
all his late measures, the emperor coidd have no other view than to amuso
them, and to gain time for ripening his ovmi schemes."

*» Seek, lib iii. pp. 566, 670, 613. Sleid. p. 355.

•♦ Steid. p. 356, " Ibid. p. 358. Seek. Ub. iii. p. 620.

DKATIl Oi-' x^HTHEil. [BOOK Vm.

BOOK VIII.

Death oi Luther — Hostility of the Emperor towards the Protestants — His Alliances —
Diet at Ratisbon — The Emperor's Treaty with the Pope — The Protestants prepare for
Defence, and seek for Aid — They lose by Inaction — Their first Operations — The Em-
peror declines Battle — Maurice o'f Saxony, his Treachery — Separation of the Confede-
rate Army — Rigorous Conduct of the Emperor to those who yielded — Contest between
Maurice of Saxony and the Elector — The Pope recals his Troops — Conspiracy in Genoa
— Fiesco, Count of Lavagna.

[1546.] While appearances of danger daily increased, and the tempest which
had been so long a gathering was ready to break forth in aU its violence
against the protestant church, Luther was saved, by a seasonable death, from
feeHng or beliolding its destructive rage. Having gone, though in a de
cliniag state of health, and during a rigorous season, to his native city of
Eysleben, in order to compose, by his authority, a dissension among the counts
of Mansfield, he was seized with a violent inflammation in his stomach, which,
in a few days, put an end to his life, in the sixty-third year of his age. As he
was raised up by Providence to be the author of one of the greatest and most
interesting revolutions recorded in history, there is not any person, perhaps,
whose character has been drawn with such opposite colours. In nis own
a^e, one party, struck with horror, and inflamed with rage, when they saw
with what a daring hand he overturned everything which they held to be
sacred, or valued as beneficial, imputed to him not only all the defects and
vices of a man, but the qualities of a demon. The other, warmed with the ad-
miration and gratitude which they thought he merited as the restorer of light
and liberty to the Christian church, ascribed to him perfections above the
condition of humanity, and viewed all his actions with a veneration bordering
on that which should be paid only to those who are guided by the immediate
inspiration of heaven. It is his own conduct, not the undistinguishing censure
or the exaggerated praise of his contemporaries, that ought to regulate the
opinions of the present age concerning him. Zeal for what he regarded as
truth, undaunted intrepidity to maintain his own system, abilities, both na-
tural and acquired, to defend his principles, and unwearied industry in pro-
pagating them, are viiiues which sliine so conspicuously in every part of his
behaviour, that even his enemies must allow him to have possessed them in an
eminent degree. To these may be added, with equal justice, such purity and
even austerity of manners, as became one who assumed the character of a re-
former ; such sanctity of life as suited the doctrine which he deKvered ; and
such i)erfect disinterestedness as afi'ords no shght presumption of his sincerity^.
Superior to aU. selfish considerations, a stranger to the elegancies of life, and
despising its pleasures, he left the honours and emoluments of the church to
his disciples, remaining satisfied himself in his original state of professor in
the university, and pastor of the town of Wittemberg, vrith l-be moderate
appointments annexed to these ofiices. His extraordinary qualities were al-
loyed with no inconsiderable mixture of human frailty and human passions.
These, however, were of such a nature, that they cannot be imputed to ma-
levolence or corruption of heart, but 3eera to have taken their nse from the

BOOK VIII.] LUTHHa's CiiAiUCTBE. 339

sanie source witii maiiv of his virtues. His niLnd, forcible and vehement in all
its operations, roused by great objects, or agitated by violent passions, broke
out, on many occasions, with an unpctuosity which astonishes men of feebler
spirits, or such as arc placed in a more trantpui situation. By carrying some
praiseworthy dispositions to excess, he bonlr ' on what was

cnipahlo, and was often betrayed into actions in to censnre.

His c'outidcncc that his own opinions were wcU ..,...,. ^.^^roached to arro-
gance ; his courage in asserting them, to rashness ; iiis tirmness in adhering to
them, to obstinacy ; and his zciil in confuting his adversaries, to rage and scur-
rility. Accustomed himself to consider everything as subordinate to truth, he
expected the same deference for it from other men ; and, without making any
allowances for their timidity or prejudices, he poured forth against such as
disappointed him in this particular, a torrent of invective mingled with con-
tempt. Regardless of any distinction of rank or character, when his doctrines
were attacked, he chastised all his adversaries indiscriminately, with the same
rough hand : neither the royal dignity of Henry YIII., nor the eminent learn-
ing and abilities of Erasmus, screened them from the same gross abuse with
which he treated Tetzel or Eckius.

But these indecencies of which Luther was guilty, must not be imputed
wholly to the violence of his temper. They ought to be charged in part on
the manners of the age. Among a rude people, unacquainted with those
maxims, which, by putting continual restraint on the passions of individuals,
have polished society, and rendered it agreeable, disputes of eveiy kind were
managed with heat, and strong emotions were uttered in their natural lan-
guage, without reserve or delicacy. At the same time, the works of learned
men were all composed in Latin, and they were not only authorized, by the ex-
ample of eminent writers in that language, to use their antagonists with the
most illiberal scuiTility; but, in a dead tongue, indecencies of every kind
appear less shocking than in a living language, whose idioms and phrases
seem gross, because they are familiar.

In passing judgment up-.n the characters of men, we ought to try them
bv the principles and maxims of their own age, not by those of another.
For, although virtue and vice are at all times the same, manners and customs
vary continually. Some parts of Luther's behaviour, wldch to us appear
most culpable, gave no disgust to his contemporaries. It was even by some
of those qualities, which we are now apt to blame, that he was fitted for ac-
complishing the great work which he undertook. To rouse mankind, when
sunk in ignorance or superstition, and to encounter the rage of bigotry, armed
with power, i-equired the utmost vehemence of zeal, as well as a temper
daring to excess. A gentle call would neither have reached, nor have ex-
cited those to whom it was addressed. A spirit more amiable, but less
vigorous than Luther's, would have shrunk back from the dangers which he
braved and surmounted. Towards the close of Luther's life, though without
any perceptible diminution of his zeal or abilities, the infirmities of nis temper
increased upon him, so that he grew daQy more peevish, more irascible, and
more impatient of contradiction. Ha\dn^ lived to be a witness of his own
amazing success ; to see a great part of Europe embrace his doctrines ; and
to shake the foundation of the papal throne, before which the mightiest rno-
narchs had trembled, he discovered, on some occasions, svmptoms of vanity
and self-applause. He must have been, indeed, more ttan man, if, upon
contemplating all that he actually accomplished, he had never felt any senti-
ment ot this kind rising in his breast.^

* A remarkable instance of this, as well as of a certain sinr^ularity and elevation of sen-
timent, is found in his last will. Though the effects which he had to bequeath were very

z2

840 CHAEIiES TBIES TO DECEIVE THE PR0TESTA2STS. [BOOK VIII,

Some time before his death, he felt his strength declininff, his constitution
oeing worn out b^ a prodigious multiplicity of business, added to the labour
of discharging his ministerial function with unremitting diligence, to the
fatigue of constant study, besides the composition of works as voluminous as
if he had enjoyed uninterrupted leisure and retirement. His natural intre-
pidity did not forsake him at the approach of death ; his last conversation
with Ms friends was concerning the happiness reserved for good men in a
future life, of which he spoke with the fervour and delight natural to one who
expected and wished to enter soon upon the enjoyment of it.^ The account
of nis death filled the Roman catholic party with excessive as well as indecent
joy, and damped the spirits of all his followers ; neither party sufficiently con-
sidering that his doctrines were now so firmly rooted, as to be in a con-
dition to flourish independent of the hand which had first planted them. His
funeral was celebrated by order of the elector of Saxony with extraordinary
pomp. He left several children by his wife, Catherine a Boria, who survived
him. Towards the end of the last century, there were in Saxony some of his
descendants in decent and honourable stations.*

The emperor meanwhile pursued the plan of dissimulation with which he
had set out, employing every art to amuse the protestants, and to quiet their
fears and jealousies. Tor tliis purpose, he contrived to have an interview
with the landgrave of Hesse, the most active of all the confederates, and the
most suspicious of his designs. To him he made such warm professions of his
concern tor the happiness of Germany, and of his aversion to all violent mea-
sures ; he denied in such express terms his having entered into any league, or
having begun any military preparations which should give any just cause of
alarm to the protestants, as seem to have dispelled all the landgrave's doubts
and apprehensions, and sent him away fully satisfied of his pacific intentions.
This artifice was of great advantage, and effectually answered the pui'pose
for which it was employed. The landgrave, upon his leaving Spires, where
he had been admitted to this interview, went to Worms, where the Smalkaldic
confederates were assembled, and gave them such a flattering representation
of the emperor's favourable disposition towards them, that they, who were too
apt, as well from the temper of the German nation, as from the genius of all
great associations or bodies of men, to be slow and dilatorv, and undecisive in
their deliberations, thought there was no necessity of taking any immediate
measures against danger, which appeared to be distant or imaginary.*

Such events, however, soon occurred as staggered the credit which the
protestants had given to tne emperor's declarations. The council of Trent,
though still composed of a small number of Italian and Spanish prelates,
without a single deputy from many of the kingdoms which it assumed a right
of binding by its decrees, being ashamed of its long inactivity, proceeded
now to settle articles of the greatest importance. Having begun with ex-
amining the first and chief point in controversy between the church of Rome
and the reformers, concerning the rule which should be held as supreme ana

inconsiderable, he thought it necessary to make a testament, but scorned to frame it with
the usual legal formalities. Notus sum, says he, in coelo, in terra, et inferno: et auctori-
tatem ad hoc sufficientera habeo, ut mihi soli credatur, cum Deus mihi, homini licet
damnabili, et miserabili peccatori, ex paterna misericordia Evangelium filii sui crediderit,
dederitque ut in eo verax et fidelis fuerim, ita ut multi in mundo illud per me acceperint,
et me pro doctore veritatis agnoverint, spreto banno papas, csesaris, regum, principuin
et sacerdotum, immo omnium da;monum odio. Quidni, igitur, ad dispositionem haric, in
re exigua, suiRciat, si adsit manus mese testimonium, et dici possit, Haic scripsit D.
Martinus Luther, notarius Dei, et testis Evangelii ejus. Seek. lib. iii. p. G51.

2 Sleid. p. 362. Seek. lib. iii. p. 632, &c.

^ Seek. lib. iii. p. 651. " * Sleid. Hist. pp. 307, 373.

BOOK VIII.] ARCHBISnor OF COLOGNE EXCOMMUNICATED. 341

decisive in matters of faith, the council, by its infallible authority, determined,
" That the books to which the designation of apocryphal hath been given, aro
of eciual authority with those which were received oy the Jews and primitive
Christians into the sacred canon : that the traditions handed down from the
apostolic age, and prcseiTcd in the church, are entitled to as much regard as
the doetrmes and precepts which the inspired authors have committed to
writing; that the Latin translation of the scriptures, made or revised by
St. Jerome, and known by the name of the Vulgate translation, should be
read in ciiui-clics, and appealed to in the schools as authentic and canonical."
Against all who disclaimed the truth of these tenets, anathemas were de-
nounced in the name and by the authority of the Holy Ghost, The decision
of these pomts. which undermined the main foundation of the Lutheran
system, was a plain warning to the protestants what judgment they might ex-
pect when the council shoidd have leisure to take into consideration the
particular and subordinate articles of their creed.^

Tills discovery of the council's readiness to condemn the opinions of the
protestants was soon followed by a striking instance of the pope's resolution
to punish such as embraced them. The appeal of the canons of Cologne
against their archbishop ha\dng been carried to Rome, Paul eagerly seized on
that opportunity, both of displaying the extent of his own authority, and of
teaching the German ecclesiastics the danger of revolting from the esta-
blished church. As no person appeared in behalf of the archbishop, he was
held to be convicted of the crime of heresy, and a papal bull was issued, de-
priving him of his ecclesiastical dignity, miiicting on him the sentence of
excommunication, and absolving his subjects fi-om the oath of allegiance
which they had taken to him as their civil superior. The countenance which
he had given to the Lutheran heresy was the only crime imputed to liim, as
well as the only reason assigned to justify the extraordinary severity of this
decree. The protestants could hardly believe that Paul, how zealous soever
he might be to defend the established system, or to humble those who invaded
it, woidd have ventured to proeeedto such extremities against a prince and
elector of the empire, without having previously secui'cd such powerful pro-
tection as would render his censure something more than an impotent and
despicable sally of resentment. They were, of course, deeply alarmed at tliis
scnteucc against the archbishop, considering it as a sure indication of the
malevolent intentions not only of the pope, But of the emperor, against the
whole party.®

Upon this fresh revival of their fears, with such violence as is natural to
men roused from a false security, and conscious of their having been deceived,
Charles saw that now it became necessary to throw aside the mask, and to
declare openly what part he determined to act. By a long series of artifice and
fallacy, he had g;ainea so much time that his measures, though not altogether
ripe for execution, were in great forwardness. The pope, by his proceedings
against the elector of Cologne, as well as by the decree of the council, had
precipitated matters into such a situation, as rendered a breach between the
emperor and the protestants almost unavoidable. Charles had, therefore, no
choice left him, but either to take part with them in overturning what the see
of Home had determined, or to support the authority of the church opeidj',
by force of arms. Nor did the pope think it enough to have brought the
emperor under a necessity of acting ; he pressed him to begin his operations
immediately, and to carry them on with such vigour as could not tail of se-
curing success. Ti-ansported by his zeal against heresy, Paul forgot all the

I

* F. Paul, p. 141. Pallavic. p. 206.

• Sleid. p. 354. F. Paul, p. 155. Pallavic. p. 224.

842 DIET AT EATISBON, [EOOK VHI.

prudent and cautious maxims of the papal see, with regard to the danger
of extending the imperial authority beyond due bounds ; and in order to crush
the Lutherans, he was willing to contribute towards raising up a master that
might one day prove formidable to himself as well as to the rest of Italy.

But, besides the certain expectation of assistance from the pope, Cnarles
was now secure from any danger of interruption to his designs by the Turkish
arms. His negotiations at the Porte, which he had carried on with great
assiduity since the peace of Crespy, were on the point of being terminated
in such a manner as he desired. Solyman, partly in compliance with the
French king, who, in order to avoid the disagreeable obligation of joining the
emperor against his ancient aUy, laboured with great zeal to bring about an
accommodation between them ; and partly from its being necessary to turn
his arms towards the East, where the Persians threatened to invade his do-
minions, consented without difficulty to a truce for five years. The chief
article of it was, " That each should retain possession of what he now held
in Hungary ; and Ferdinand, as a sacrifice to the pride of the sultan, sub-
mitted to pay an annual tribute of fifty thousand crowns." ^

But it was upon the aid and concurrence of the Germans themselves that
the emperor relied with the greatest confidence. The Germanic bodj', he
knew, was of such vast strength, as to be invincible if it were united, and
that it was only by employing its own force that he could hope to subdue it.
Happily for him, the union of the several members in this great system was
so feeble, the whole frame was so loosely compacted, and its different parts
tended so violently towards separation from each other, that it was almost
impossible for it, on any important emergence, to join in a general or vigorous
effort. In the present juncture, the sources of discord were as many and as
various as had been known on any occasion. The Roman catholics, animated
with zeal in defence of their religion, proportional to the fierceness with which
it had been attacked, were eager to second any attempt to humble those inno-
vators, who had overturned it in many provinces, and endangered it iu more.
John and Albert of Brandenburg, as weU as several other princes, incensed
at the haughtiness and rigour with which the duke of Brunswick had been
treated by the confederates of Smalkalde, were impatient to rescue him, and
to be revenged on them. Charles observed, with satisfaction, the working of
those passions in their minds, and countmg on them as sure auxiliaries when-
ever he should think it proper to act, he found it, in the meantime, more ne-
cessary to moderate than to inflame their rage.

Such was the situation of affairs, such the discernment with which the
emperor foresaw and provided for every event, when the diet of the empire
met at Batisbon. Many of the Boman catholic members appeared there in
person, but most of the confederates of Smalkalde, under pretence of being
unable to bear the expense occasioned by the late unnecessary frequency of
such assemblies, sent only deputies. Their jealousy of the emperor, together
with an apprehension that violence might, perhaps, be employed, in order to
force their approbation of what he should propose in the diet, was the true
cause of their absence. The speech with which the emperor opened the diet
was extremely artful. After professing, in common form, his regard for the
prosperity of the Germanic body, and declaring that, in order to bestow his
whole attention upon the re-establishment of its order and tranquillity, he had
at present abandoned all other cares, rejected the most pressing solicitations
of his other subjects to reside amongthem, and postponed affairs of the
greatest importance ; he took notice, with some disapprobation, that his dis-.
interested example had not been imitated ; many members of chief considera^

' Istuauhaffii Hist. Hunfj. p. 180. Mem. de Ribier, tom. i. p. 5S2.

I

BOOK VUI.] THE rHOTESTANTS ALAEMED. 34S

tion baviu^ neglected to attend an assembly to which he had repaired with
siuli iiiiiiifest incouyeiiience to himself. He then mentioned their uniiappy
I ;ibout religion; lamented the ill f^uccess of his pabt endeavours to

i.m; complained of the abnipt dissolution of the late conference,
and cr.ivcd their advice with regard to the best and most effectual method oi
restoring miiou to the ehurclies of Germany, together with that happy agree-
ment ill articles of faith, which [heir ancestors had found to be of no less ad-
vantage to their civil interest, than becoming their Christian profession.

By this gracious and popular method of consulting the members of the diet,
rather than of obtruding iipon them any opim^on of his own, besides the ap-
pearance of great moderation, and the merit of paying much respect to their
judgment, the emperor dexterously avoided discovering his own sentiments,
and reserved to himself, as his only part, that of carrying into execution what
they should recounnend. Nor was he less secure of such a decision as he
wished to obtain, by refeiTing it wholly to themselves. The Iloman catholic
members, prompted by their own zeal, or prepared by his intrigues, joined
immediately in representing that the authority of the council now met at
Trent ought to be supreme in all matters of controversy ; that all Christians
shoidd submit to its decrees as the infallible rule of their faith ; and therefore
they besought him to exert the power with which he was invested by the
Ahmighty, in protecting that assembly, and in compelling the protestants to
acquiesce in its determmations. The protestants, on the other hand, presented
a memorial, in which, after repeating their objections to the council of Trent,
they proposed, as the only effectual method of deciding the points in dispute,
that either a free general council should be assembled in Germany, or a na-
tional council of the empire should be called, or a select number of divines
should be appointed out of each party to examine and define articles of faith.
They mentioned the recesses of several diets favourable to this proposition,
and which had afforded them the prospect of terminating all their differences
in this amicable manner ; they now conjured the emperor not to depart from
his former plan, and, by offering violence to their consciences, to bring ca-
lamities upon Germanv, the very thought of which must fill every lover of his
country with horror. I'he emperor, receiving this paper with a contemptuous
smile, paid no further regard to it. Having already taken his final resolution,
and perceiving that nothing but force could compel them to acquiesce in it,
he despatched the cardinal of Trent to Rome, in order to conclude an alliance
with the pope, the terms of which were akeady agreed on ; he commanded a
body of troops, levied on purpose in the Low Countries, to advance towards
Germany ; he gave commissions to several officers for raising men in different
parts of' the empire; he warned John and Albert of Brandenburg, that now
was the proper time of exerting themselves in order to rescue their ally,
Henry of^Brunswick, from captivity.*

AH these things could not be transacted without the observation and know-
ledge of the protestants. The secret was novs^ in many hands j under what-
ever veil the emperor still affected to conceal his designs, his officers kept no
such mysterious reserve ; and his allies and subjects spoke out his intentions
plainly. Alarmed with reports of this kind from eveiy quarter, as well as
with the preparation for war which they could not but obsci-ve, the deputies
of the confederates demanded audience of the emperor, and, in the name of
their masters, required to know whether these military preparations were
carried ou by his command, and for what end, and against what enemy ? To
a question put in such a tone, and at a time when facts were become too
notorious to be denied, it was necessary to give an explicit answer. Charles

3 Sleid. p. 374. Seek. lib. iii. p. 658.

344 THE emperor's treaty -with the pope. [book viil

owned the orders whicli he liad issued, and professing liis purpose not U
molest on account of religion those who should act as dutiful subjects, do
Glared that he had nothing in view hut to maintain the rights and prero-
gatives of the imperial dignity, and, by punishing some factious members, t(i
preserve the ancient constitution of the empire from being impaired or dis-
solved by their irregular and licentious conduct. Though the emperor did not
name the persons whom he charged with such high crimes, and destined to
be the objects of his vengeance, it was obvious that he had the elector of
Saxony and landgrave of Hesse in view.^ Their deputies, considering what
he had said as a plain declaration of his hostile intentions, immediately
retired from Ratisbon.^

The cardinal of Trent found it no difficult matter to treat with the pope,
who having at length brought the emperor to adopt that plan which he had
long recommended, assented with eagerness to every article that he proposed.
The league was signed a few days after the cardinal's arrival in Rome. The
pernicious heresies which abounded in Germany, the obstinacy of the pro-
testants in rejecting the holy council assembled at Trent, and the necessity of
maintaining sound doctrine, together with good order, in the church, are
mentioned as the motives of this union between the contracting parties. In
order to check the growth of these evils, and to punish such as had impiously
contributed to spread them, the emperor, having long and without success
made trial of gentler remedies, engaged instantly to take the field M'ith a
sufficient army, that he might compel all who diso^\Taed the council, or had
apostatized from the religion of their forefathers, to retuni to the bosom of
the church, and submit with due obedience to the holy see. lie likewise bound
himself not to conclude a peace with them during six months without the
pope's consent, nor without assignmg him his share in any conquests which
should be made upon them ; and that, even after this period, he shotdd not
agree to any accommodation which might be detrimental to the church, or to
the interest of religion. On his part, the pope stipulated to deposit a large
sum in the bank of Yenice towards defraying the expense of the wjir ; to
maintain, at his own charge, during the space of six months, twelve thousand
foot and five hundred horse ; to grant the emperor for one year half of the ec-
clesiastical revenues throughout Spain ; to authorize him, by a bull, to ahenate
as much of the lands belonging to religious houses in that country as wouJd
amount to the sum of five hundred thousand crowns ; and to employ not only
spiritual censures, but military force, against any prince who should attempt
to interrupt or defeat the execution of this treaty.^"

Notwithstanding the explicit terms in which the extirpation of heresy was
declared to be the object of the war which was to follow upon this treaty,
Charles still endeavoured to persuade the Germans that he had no design to
abridge their reHgious liberty, but that he aimed only at vindicating his o^yn
authority, and repressing the insolence of such as had encroached upon it.
With this view, he wrote circular letters in the same strain with his answer
to the deputies at Ratisbon, to most of the free cities, and to several of the

fn-inces who had embraced the protestant doctrines. In these he complained
oudly, but in general terms, ol the contempt into which the imperial dignity
had fallen, and of the presumptuous as well as disorderly behaviour of some
members of the empire. He declared that he now took arms, not in a reli-
gious, but in a civil quarrel ; not to oppress any who continued to behave as
quiet and dutiful subjects, but to humble the arrogance of such as had thrown
oft' all sense of that subordination in which they were placed under him as head
of the Germanic body. Gross as this deception was, and manifest as it might

^ Sleid. p. 376. " Ibid. p. 381. Pallav. p. 255, Du Mont, Corps Diplom. p. IL

BOOK VIII.] THE POrE DIVULGES CHARLES'S PLAN. 345

have appeared to all wlio considered the cmi)eror's conduct with attention,
it became necessary for Mm to make trial of its effect ; and such was the
confidence and dexterity with which he employed it, that he derived the
most solid advantages from this artifice. If he had avowed at once an in-
tention of overtiu-nmg the protestant church, and of reducing all Germany
under its former state of subjection to the papal sec, none of the cities or
princes who had embraced the new opinions could have remained neutral
after such a declaration, far less could they have ventured to assist the em-
peror in such an enterprise. Whereas by concealing, and even disclaiming,
any intention of that kind, he not only saved himself from the danger of
being overwhelmed bv a general confederacy of all the protestant states, but
he furnished the timid with an excuse lor contmuing mactive, and the design-
ing or interested with a pretext for joining him, without exposing themselves
to the infamy of abandoning their own principles, or taking part openlv in
suppressing them. At the same time, the emperor well knew, that if, by their
assistance, he were enabled to break the power of the elector of Saxony and
the landgrave, he might aftenvards prescribe what terms he pleased to the
feeble remains of a party without umon, and destitute of leaders, who would
then regret, too late, their oiistaken confidence in him, and their inconsiderate
desertion of their associates.

The pope, by a sudden and unforeseen display of his zeal, had well-nigh
disconcerted this plan, which the emperor had formed with so much care and
art. Proud of having been the author of such a fonnidable league against
the Lutheran heresy, and happy in thinking that the glory of extirpatmg it
was reserved for his pontificate, he pubHshed the articles of his treaty with
the emperor, in order to demonstrate the pious intention of their confederacy,
as well as to display his own zeal, which prompted him to make such extra-
ordinary efibrts for maintaining the faith_ in its purity. Not satisfied with
this, he soon after issued a bull, containing most liberal promises of indul-
gence to all who should engage in this holy enterprise, together with warm
exhortations to such as could not bear a part in it themselves, to increase
the fervour of their prayers, and the severity of their mortifications, that they
might draw down the blessings of heaven upon those who undertook it." Nor
was it zeal alone which pushed the pope to make declarations so inconsistent
with the account which the emperor himself gave of his motives for taking
arms. He was much scandalized at Charles's dissimulation in such a cause ;
at his seeming to be ashamed of owning his zeal for the church, and at his
endeavours to make that pass for a political contest, which he ought to have
gloried in as a war that had no other object than the defence of reUgion.
with as much solicitude, therefore, as the emperor laboured to disguise the
purpose of the confederacy, did the pope endeavour to publish their real plan,
m order that they might come at once to an open rupture with the protestants,
that all hopes of reconcilement might be cut off, and that Charles might be
under fewer temptations, and have it less in his power than at present to
betray the interests of the church by any accommodation beneficial to hini-
self.'^

The emperor, though not a little offended at the pope's indiscretion or
malice in making this discovery, continued boldly to pursue his o\m plan, and
to assert liis intentions to be no other than what he had originally avowed.
Several of the protestant states, whom he had previously gained, thought
themselves justified, in some measure, by his declaration, for abandomng
their associates, and even for giving assistance to him.

But these artifices did not impose on the greater and sounder part of the

'» Du Mont, Corps Diplom. »= F. Paul, p. 188. Thuan. Hist. lib. i. p. 6U

546 Protestants' solicitations roE, aid. [book vni.

protestant confederates. They clearly perceived it to be against the reformed
religion that the emperor had taken arms, and that not only the suj)pression
of it, but the extinction of the German liberties, would be the certain conse-
quence of his obtaining such an entii-e superiority as would enable him to
execute his schemes in their full extent. They determined, tliereibre, to pre-
pare for their own defence, and neither to renounce those religious. truths, to
the knowledge of which they had attained by means so wonderful, nor to
abandon those civil rights which had been transmitted to them by their an-
cestors. In order to give the necessary directions for tliis purpose, their
deputies met at Ulm, soon after their abrupt departure from Ratisbon. Their
deliberations were now conducted with such vigour and unanimity, as the im-
minent danger which threatened them required. The contingent of troops,
wliich each of the confederates was to furnish, having been fixed by the
original treaty of union, orders were given for bringing them immediately
into the field. Being sensible, at last, that, through the narrow prejudices of
some of their members, and the imprudent security of others, they had
neglected too long to strengthen themselves by foreign alliances, they now
applied with great earnestness to the Venetians and Swiss,

To the Venetians they represented the emperor's intention of overturning
the present system of Germany, and of raising himseK to absolute power in that
country by means of a foreign force furnished by the pope ; they warned them
how fatal this event would prove to the liberties of Italy, and that by suifer-
ing Charles to acquire unlimited authority in the one country, they would
soon feel his dommion to be no less despotic in the other; they besought
them, therefore, not to grant a passage through their territories to those
troops which ought to be treated as common enemies, because by subduing
Germany, they prepared chains for the rest of Europe. These reflections had
not escaped the sagacity of those wise republicans. They had communicated
their sentiments to the pope, and had endeavoured to divert him from an
alliance, which tended to render irresistible the power of a potentate, whose
ambition he already knew to be boundless. But they had found Paul so
eager in the prosecution of his own plan, that he disregarded all their remon-
strances.^^ This attempt to alarm the pope having proved unsuccessful, they
declined doing anything more towards preventing the dangers which they
foresaw: and in return to the application from the confederates of Smal-
kalde, tliey informed them that they could not obstruct the march of the
pope's troops through an open country, but by levying an army strong enough
to face them in the field ; and that this would draw upon themselves the whole
weight of his as well as of the emperor's indignation. Por the same reason,
they declined lending a sum of money, which the elector of Saxony and land-
grave proposed to borrow of them, towards carrying on the war.'*

The demands of the confederates upon the Swiss were not confined to the
obstructing of the entrance of foreigners into Germany ; they required of them,
as the nearest neighbours and closest allies of the empire, to interpose, with
their wonted vigour, for the preservation of its liberties, and not to stand as
inactive spectators, while their brethren were oppressed and enslaved. But
with whatever zeal some of the cantons might have been disposed to act when
the cause of the reformation was in danger, the Helvetic body was so divided
with regard to religion, as to render it unsafe for the protestant s to take any
step without consulting their catholic associates ; and among them the emis-
saries of the pope and the emperor had such influence, that a resolution of

13 Adriani, Istoria de' suoi Tempi, lib. v. p. 332.

14 Sleid. p. 381. Paruta, Istor. Venet. torn. iv. p. 180. Lambertus Hortensius de Bello
Germanico, apnd Seardium, voL iL p. 547.

BOOK Vni.] THEY TAKE THE PIELD WITH A LAUGE ARMY. 347

maintainini? an exact neutrality between the contending parties was the ut-
most which cduld be procured."

Boiiii!: disappointed in both these applications, the protestants, nofe- long
aft ' ' course to the kings of 1 ranee and England; the approach of
d;i • overcoming the elector of Saxony's scruples, or obliging him to

yii., importunities of his associates. The situation of the two mo-

narchs flattered them with hopes of success. Though hostilities between
them had continued for some time after the peace of Crespy, they became
wearv at last of a war, attended with no gloiy or advantage to either, and
had lately terminated all their differences by a peace concluded at Campe
near Ardres. Francis having with great difficulty procured his allies, the
Scots, to be included in the treaty, in return for that concession he engaged
to pay a great sum, which Henry demanded as due to him on several ac-
counts, and he left Boulogne in the hands of the English, as a pledge for
his faithful performance of that article. But though the re-establishment of
peace seemed to leave the two monarchs at liberty to turn their attention
towards Germany, so unfortunate were the protestants, that they derived no
immediate advantage from this circumstance. Henry appeared unwilling to
enter into any alliance with them, but on such conditions as woidd render
him not only the head, but tlie supreme director of their league; a pre-
eminence which, as the bonds of union or interest between them were out
feeble, and as he differed from them so widely in his religious sentiments,
they had no inclination to admit. ^« Erancis, more powerfully inclined by po-
litical considerations to afford them assistance, found his kingdom so much
exhausted by a long war, and was so much afraid of irritating the pope, by
entering into close union with excommunicated heretics, that he durst not
undertake the protection of the Smalkaldic league. By this ill-tinied caution,
or by a superstitious deference to scruples, to wliich at other times he Avas
not much addicted, he lost the most promising opportunity of mortifying
and distressing his rival, which presented itself during his whole reign.

But, notwithstanding their ill success in their negotiations with foreign
courts, the confederates fomid no difficulty at home in bringing a suificient
force into the field. Grcrmany abounded at that time in inhabitants; the
feudal institutions, which subsisted in fuU force, enabled the nobles to call
out their numerous vassals, and to put them in motion on the shortest warn-
ing ; the martial spirit of the Gennans, not broken or enervated by t!ie intro-
duction of commerce and arts, had acquired additional vigour during the
continual wars in winch they had been employed, for half a century, either in
the pay of the emperors or the kings of Erance. Upon every opportunity
of entering into service, they were accustomed to run eagerly to arms-; and
to every standard that was erected, volunteers flocked from all quarters."
Zeal seconded, on this occasion, their native ardour. Men, on whom the
doctrines of the reformation had made that deep impression which accom-
panies truth when first discovered, prepared to maintain it with proportional
vigour : and among a warlike people, it appeared infamous to remain inactive,
when the defence of religion was the motive for taking arms. Accident com-
bined with all these circumstances in facilitating the levy of soldiers among
the confederates. A considerable number of Germans, in the pay of Erance,
being dismissed by the king on the prospect of peace with England, joinea
in a body 1 he standard of tlic. |>rotestants.'* By such a concurrence of causes,
they were enabled to assemble in a few weeks an army composed of seventy
thousand foot and fifteen thousand horse, provided with a train oi a hundred

I

« Sleid. p. 392. " Rymer, xv. 93. Herbert, p. 258.

" Seek. lib. iii. p. 161. " Thuan. lib. i. p. 68.

848 PROTESTANTS LOSE BY INACTION. [BOOK YIII.

and twenty cannon, eight hundred ammnrntion-waggons, eight thousand beasts
of burden, and six thousand pioneers.'^ This army, one of the most nume-
rous, and, undoucitedly, the best appointed of any which had been levied in
Europe during that century, did not require the united effort of the whole
protestant body to raise it. The elector of Saxony, the landgrave of Hesse,
the duke of Wurtemberg, the princes of Anhalt, and the imperial cities of
Augsburg, Ulm, and Strasburg, were the only powers which contributed to-
wards this great armament : the electors of Cologne, of Brandenburg, and
the count palatine, overawed by the emperor's threats, or deceived by his
l^rofessions, remained neuter. John, marquis of Brandenburg Barieth, and
Albert of Brandenburg Anspach, though both early converts to Lutheranism,
entered openly into the emperor's service, under pretext of having obtained
his promise for the security of the protestant religion ; and Maurice of
Saxony soon followed their example.

The number of their troops, as well as the amazing rapidity wherewith
they had assembled them, astonished the emperor, and filled him with the
most disquieting apprehensions. _ He was, indeed, in no condition to resist
such a mighty force, _ Shut up in Batisbon, a town of no great strength,
whose inhabitants, being mostly Lutherans, would have been more ready to
betray than to assist hmi, with only three thc^usand Spanish foot, who had
served in Hungary, and about five thousand Germans, who had joined him
from different parts of the empire, he must have been overwlielmed by the
approach of such a formidable^ army, which he could not fight, nor could he
even hope to retreat from it in safety. The pope's troops, though in full
march to his relief, had hardly reached the frontiers of Germany ; the forces
which he expected from the Low Countries had not yet begun to move, and
were even far from being complete.^* His situation, however, called for
more immediate succour, nor did it seem practicable for him to wait for such
distant auxiliaries, with whom his junction was so precarious.

But it happened, fortunately for Charles, that the confederates did not avail
themselves of the advantage which lay so full in their view. In civil wars,
the first steps are commonly taken with much timidity and hesitation. Men
are solicitous, at that time, to put on the semblance of moderation and equity ;
they strive to gam partisans by seeming to adhere strictly to known forms ;
nor can they be brought, at once, to violate those estabKshed institutions,
which, in times of tranquillity, they have been accustomed to reverence ; hence
their proceedings wee often feeble or dilatory, when they ought to be most
vigorous and decisive. Lifluenced by those considerations, which, happily for
the peace of society, operate powerfully on the human mind, the confederates
could not think of throwing off that allegiance which they owed to the head
of the empire, or of turning their arms against him, without_ one more solemn,
appeal to liis candour, and to the impartial judgment of their fellow-subjects.
For this puraose, they addressed a letter to the emperor, and a manifesto to
all the inhabitants of Germany. The tenour of both was the same. They
represented their own conduct with regard to piviL affairs as dutiful and sub-
missive ; they mentioned the inviolable union in which they had lived with
the emperor, as well as the many and recent marks of his good-will and grati-
tude wherewithal they had been honoured ; they asserted rehgion to be the
sole cause of the violence which the emperor now meditated against them ;
and, in proof of tliis, produced many arguments to convince those who were
SO weak as to be deceived by the artifices with which he endeavoured to coyer
his real intentions ; they declared their own resolution to risk everything

'9 Thuan. lib. i. p. 601. Ludovici ab Avila et Zuniga Commentariorum de Bel. Germ
lib. duo. Antw. 1550, 12mo. p. 13 a. 20 Sleid. p. 389. Avila, p. 8 a.

BOOK VIII.] THEY DECLARE "WAE AGAINST CHAltLES. 349

iu maintenance of their religious riglits, and foretold the dissolution of the
German constitution, if the emperor should finally prevail against them.'**

Charles, though iu such a perilous situation as might have inspired him
with moderate sentiments, appeared as inflexible and haughty as if his affairs
had been in the most prosperous state. His only reply to the address and
manifesto of the protest ants, was to publish the ban of the empire against
the elector of Saxony and landgrave of Hesse, their leaders, and against all
who should dare to assist them. By this sentence, the idtimatc and most
rigorous one which the German jurisprudence has provided for the punish-
ment of traitors, or enemies to their country, they were declared rebels and
outlaws, and deprived of every privilege which they enjoyed as members of
the Germanic body: their goods were confiscated; their subjects absolved
from their oath of allegiance ; and it became not only lawful, but meritorious,
to invade their territories. The nobles, and free cities, who framed or per-
fected the constitution of the German government, had not been so negligent
of their own safety and privileges as to trust the emperor with this formidable
jurisdiction. The authority of a diet of the empire ought to have been inter-
posed before any of its members could be put under the ban. But Charles
overlooked that formality, well knowing that, if his arms were crowned with
success^ there would remain none who would have either power or courage
to cfdl m question what he had done.-- The emperor, however, did not found
his sentence against the elector and landgrave on their revolt from the esta-
blished church, or their conduct with regard to religion ; he affected to
assign for it reasons purely civil, and those too expressed in such general
and ambiguous terms, without specifjdng the nature or circumstances of their
guilt, as rendered it more like an act of despotic po\yer than of a legal and
mnited jurisdiction. Nor was it altogether from choice, or to conceal his in-
tentions, that Charles had recourse to the ambiguity of general expressions ;
but he durst not mention too particularly the causes of Ins sentence, as eyery
action which he could have charged upon the elector and landgrave as a crime,
might have been employed with equal justice to condemn many of the pro-
testants whom he stiU pretended to consider as faithful subjects, and whom
it would have been extremely imprudent to alarm or disgust.

The confederates, now perceivmg all hopes of accommodation to be at an
end, had only to choose wriether they W9urd submit, without reserve, to the
emperor^s will^ or proceed to open hostilities. They were not destitute either
of public spirit, or of resolution to make the proper choice. A few days
after the ban of the empire was published, they, according to the custom of
that age, sent a herald to the imperial camp, with a solemn declaration of
war against Charles, to whom they no longer gave any other title than that
of pretended emperor, and renounced all allegiance, homage, or duty, which
he might claim, or which they had hitherto yielded to him. But previous
to this fomialitv, part of their troops had begun to act. The command of z
considerable body of men, raised by the city of Augsburg, having been given
to Sebastian Seuertel, a soldier of fortune, who, by the booty that he got
when the imperialists plundered Borne, together with the merit of lon^ ser-
vice, liad acquired wealth and authority which placed him on a level witli the
chief of the Gennan nobles • that gallant veteran resolved, before he joined
the main body of the contederates, to attempt something suitable to his

former fame, and to the expectation of his couutrjinen. As the pope's forces
were hastening towards Tyrol, in order to penetrate

)trate into Germany, by the

«» Sleid. p. 384.

« Ibid. p. 38G. Dii ^font, Corps Diploni. lib. ir. p. u. 314. PfeiTel, Hist. Abr^ge du
Droit I'ubL pp. IGS, 73G, 158.

350 ILL CONDUCT or THE CONFEDEKATES. [BOOK VIII.

narrow passes tlirougli the mountams which run across that country, he ad-
vanced thither with the utmost rapidity, and seized Ehrenberg and Cuffstein,
two strong castles which commanded the principal defiles. Without stopping
a moment, he continued his march towards Inspruck, by getting possession
of which he would have obliged the Italians to stop short, and with a small
body of men could have resisted aU the efforts of the greatest annies. Castle-
alto, the governor of Trent, knowing what a fatal blow this would be to the
emperor, all whose designs must have proved abortive if his Italian auxiliaries
had been intercepted, raised a few troops with the utmost despatch, and
threw himself into the town. Schertel, however, did not abandon the enter-
prise, and was preparing to attack the place, when the intelligence of the ap-
E roach of the Italians, and an order from the elector and land^ave, obliged
im to desist. By Ms retreat the passes were left open, and the Italians
entered Germany without any opposition, but from the ganisons which
Schertel had placed in Ehrenberg and Cuffstein ; and these, having no hopes
of being relieved, surrendered after a short resistance.^'

Nor was the recalling of Schertel the only error of which the confederates
were guilty. As the supreme command of their araiy was committed, in
terms of me league of Smalkalde, to the elector of Saxony and landgrave of
Hesse with equal power, all the inconveniences arising from a divided and
co-ordinate authority, which is always of fatal consequence in the operations
of war, were immediately felt. The elector, though intrepid in his own
person to excess, and most ardently zealous in the cause, was slow in delibe-
rating, uncertain as well as irresolute in his determinations, and constantly
preferred measures which were cautious and safe to such as were bold or de-
cisive. The landgrave, of a more active and enterprising nature, formed all
his resolutions with promptitude, wished to execute them with spirit, and
uniformly preferred such measures as tended to bring the contest to a speedy
issue. Thus their maxims, with regard to the conduct of the war, differed
as widely as those by_ which they were influenced in preparing for it. Such
perpetual contrariety in their sentiments gave rise, imperceptibly, to jealousy,
ana the spirit of contention. These multiplied the dissensions flowm^ from
the incompatibility of their natural tempers, and rendered them more violent.
The other members of the league considering themselves as independent,
and subject to the elector and landgrave only in consequence of the articles
of a voluntary confederacy, did not long retain a proper veneration for com-
manders who proceeded with so little concord; and the numerous army of
the protestants, like a vast machine whose parts are iU compacted, and
which is destitute _ of any power sufficient to move and regulate the whole,
acted with no consistency, vigour, or effect.

The emperor, who was afraid t'hat, by remaining at Hatisbon, he might
render it impossible for the pope's forces to join him, having boldly advanced
to Landshut on the Iser, the confederates lost some days in deliberating

•^ Seckend. lib. ii. p. 70. Adriani, Istoria de' suoi Tempi, lib. v. p. 335.

Seckendorf, the industrious author of the Commentarius Apologeticus de Luthera-
nismo, wliom I have so long and safely followed as my guide in German affairs, was a de-
scendant from Schertel. With the care and solicitude of a German, who was himself
of noble birth, Seckendorf has published a long digression concerning his ancestor, calcu-
lated chiefly to show how Schertel was ennobled, and his posterity allied to many of the
most ancient families in the empire. Among other curious particulars, he gives us an
account of his wealth, the chief source of which was the plunder he got at Kome. His
landed estate alone was sold by his grandsons for six hundred thousand florins. By this
we may form some idea of the riches amassed by the condottieri, or commanders of
mercenary bands, in that age. At the taking of Rome, Schertel was only a captain*
Seckend, lib. ii. p. 73.

BOOK. VUI.] THEY ADVANCE TOWARDS THE IMPEBIAL ARMY. 351

wlietlier it was proper to follow him into the territories of the duke of Ba-
varia, a neutral prince. When at last they surmounted that scruple, and
began to move towards his camp, they sudaenly abandoned the design, and
hastened to attack Ratisbon, in which town Chuvlcs could leave only a small
garrison. By this time the papal troops, amovmting fully to that number
wliioh Paul had stipulated to furnish, had reached Landshut, and were soon
{■ " ' V. six. thousand Spaniards of the veteran bands stationed in Naples.
I ■ rates, after Schertel's spirited but fruitless expedition, seem to

iu..< i^v, waited these forces to advance unmolested to the place of rendez-
vous, without any attempt to attack either them or the emperor separately,
or to prevent their junction.'* The imperial army amounted now to thirty-
six thousand men, and was still more formidable by the discipline and valour
of the troops than by their number. Avila, commendador of Alcantara, who
had been present in all the wars carried On by Charles, and had served in the
armies which gained the memorable victory at Pavia, which conquered
Tunis, and invaded Erance, gives tliis the preference to any military force he
had ever seen assembled.-'^ Octavio Famese, the pope's grandson, assisted
by the ablest officers formed in the lon^ wars between Charles ana Erancis,
commanded the Italian auxiliaries. His brother, the cardinal Famese, ac-
companied him as papal legate ; and, in order to give the war the appearance
of a reKgious enterprise^ he proposed to march at the head of the army, with
a cross carried before lun:i, and to publish indulgences wherever he came to
all who should give them any assistance, as had anciently been the practice
in the ciiisades against the inlidels.^ But this the emperor strictly pronibited,
as inconsistent with all the declarations which he had made to the Germans of
his own party ; and the legate perceiving, to his astonishment, that the exer-
cise of the protestant religion, the extirpation of which he considered as the
sole object of the war, was publicly permitted in the imperial camp, soon
returned in disgust to Italy .^

The arrival of these troops enabled the emperor to send such a reinforce-
ment to the garrison at Batisbon, that the confederates, relinquishing all
hopes of reducing that town, marched towards Ingcldstadt on the Danube,
near to which Charles was now encamped. Tliey exciahned loudl;r against
the emperor's notorious violation of the laws and constitution of the em-

Sire, in having called in foreigners to lay waste Germany, and to oppress its
bcrties. As in that age the dominion ot the Boman see was so odious to the
protestants, that the name of the pope alone was sufficient to inspire them
with horror at any enterprise which he countenanced, and to raise in their
muids the blackest suspicions, it came to be universally believed among
them, that Paul, not satisfied with attacking them openly by force of arms,
had dispersed his emissaries all over Germany, to set on fire their towns
and magazines, and to poison the wcUs and fountains of water. Nor did this
rumour, which was extravagant and frightful enough to make a deep im-
pression on the credulity of the vulvar, spread among them only • even the
leaders of the party, blinded by their prejudices, published a declaration, in
which they accused the pope of having employed such antichristian and
diabolical arts against them.'^' These sentiments of the confederates were
confirmed, in some measure, by the behaviour of the papal troops, who,
thinking nothing too rigorous towards heretics anathematized by the church,
were guilty of great excesses in the territories of the Lutheran states, ana
aggravateo. the calamities of war by mingHng with it all the cruelty of bigoted
eeal.

I

2* Adriani, Istoria de' suoi Tempi, li'o. v. p. 340. ^^ Avila, p. 18.

* F Paul, p. 191. s^ Sleld. p. 399.

352 CHARLES DECLINES A BATTLE. [BOOK ^^II.

The first operations in tlie field, however, did not correspond with the
violence of those passions which animated individuals. The emperor had
prudently^ taken the resolution of avoiding an action with an enemy so far
superior in number,^^ especially as he foresaw that nothing could keep a
body composed of so many and such dissimilar members from falling to pieces,
but the pressing to attack it with an inconsiderate precipitancy. The con-
federates, though it was no less evident to them that every moment's delay
was pernicious, were still prevented, by the weakness or division of their
leaders, from exerting that vigour with which their situation, as well as the
ardour of their soldiers, ought to have inspired them. On their arrival at
Ingoldstadt, they found the emperor in a camp not remarkable for strength,
and surrounded only by a slight entrenchment. Before the camp lay a plain
of such extent as afforded sidficient space for drawing out their whole army,
and bringing it to act at once. Every consideration should have determined
them to have seized this opportunity of attacking the emperor ; and their
great superiority in numbers, the eagerness of their troops, together with
the stability of the German infantry in pitched battles, afforded them the
most probable expectation of victory. The landgrave urged this with great
warmth, declaring, that if the sole command were vested in him, he would
terminate the war on that occasion, and decide by one general action the fate
of the two parties. But the elector, reflecting on the valour and discipline
of the enemy's forces, ammated by the presence of the emperor, and con-
ducted by the best officers of the age, would not venture upon an action which
he thought to be so doubtful as the attacking such a body of veterans on
ground which they themselves had chosen, and while covered with fortifica-
tions which, though imperfect, would afford them no small advantage in the
combat. Notwithstanding Ms hesitation and remonstrances, it was agreed
to advance towards the enemy's camp in battle array, in order to make a
trial whether by that insult, and by a furious camionade which they began,
they could not draw the imperialists out of their works. But the emperor
had too much sagacity to fall into tliis snare : he adhered to his own system
with inflexible constancy ; and, drawing up his soldiers behind their trenches,
that they might be ready to receive the confederates, if thev should venture
upon an assault, calmly awaited theii' approach, and carefully restrained his
own men from any excursions or skirmishes which might bring on a general
engagement. He_ rode along the lines ; and addressing the troops of the
different nations in their own language, encouraged them not only by his
words, but by the cheerfulness of his voice and countenance ; he exposed
himself in places of greatest danger, and amidst the warmest fire of the
enemy's artillery, — the most numerous that had iiitherto been brought into
the field by any army. Boused by Ms example, not a man quitted his ranks ;
it was thought infamous to discover any symptom of fear when the emperor
appeared so intrepid ; and the meanest soldier plainly perceived, that their
declinmg the combat at present was not the efl'ect of tiimdity in their general,
but the result of a well-grounded caution. The confederates, after firing
several hours on the imperialists, with more noise and terror than exe-
cution, seeing no prospect of alluring them to figbt on equal terms, retired
to their own camp. The emperor employed the mght with such diligence
111 strengthening his works, that the confederates, returning to the cannonade
next day, found that, though they had now been willing to ventui-e upon such
a bold experiment, the opportmiity of making an attack with advantage waa
lost.'^

^ Avila, p. 78 a.

29 Sieid, pp. 395, 397. Avila, p 27 a. Lamb. Hortens ap. Scard.

BOOK VIII.] FLEMISH TROOrS JOIN THE EMPEllOR. 353

After sucb a discovery of the feebleness or irresolution of tlieir leaders,
and tho prudence as well as finiiness of the emperor's conduct, the con-
federates turned their whole -iltention towards preventing tlic arrival of a
powerful reinibrcenicnt of ten thousand foot and tour thousand horse, which
tlie Count de Buren was bringing to the emperor from the Low Countries.
But though that general had to traverse such an extent of country ; though
his route lay through the territories of several states warmly disposed to fa-
vour the confederates; though they were apprised of his approach, and, by
their superiority in numbers, might easily have detached a force sufficient to
overpower liim, he advanced with such rapidity, and by such well-concerted
movements, while they opposed him with such remissness, and so little mili-
tary skill, that he conducted this body to the imperial camp without any
loss.»»

Upon the arrival of the Flemings, in whom he placed great confidence,
lie emperor altered, in some degree, his plan of operations, and began to act
more upon the offensive, though he stUl avoided a oattle, with the utmost in-
dustry. He made himself master of Neuburg, Dillingen and Donawert on the
Danube; of ISordJingen, and several other towns, situated on the most
considerable streams which fall into that mighty river. By this he got the
command of a great extent of countiy, though not without being obliged
to engage in several sharp encounters, of which the success was various, not
without being exposed, oftener than once, to tlie danger of being drawn into
a battle. In this manner the whole autumn was spent ; neither party gained
any remarkable superiority over the other, and nothing was yet done to-
wards bringing the war to a period. The emperor had often foretold, with
confidence, that discord and the want of money would compel the confederates
to disperse tliat unwieldy bodv, which they had neither abilities to guide nor
funds to support.^' Though lie waited with impatience for the accomphsh-
ment of his predictions, there was no prospect of that event being at han-d.
But he himself began to suffer from the want of forage and provisions • even
the cathoUc provinces being so much incensed at the introduction of
foreigners into the empire, that they furnished them with reluctance, while
the camp of the confeclerates abounded with a profusion of all necessaries,
which the zeal of their friends in the adjacent countries poured in with the ut-
most liberalitv and good-will. Great numbers of the Italians and Spaniards,
unaccustomed to the cHmate or food of Germany, were become unfit for
service tiirough sickness." Considerable arrears were now due to the troops,
who had scarcely received any money from the beginning of the campaign ;
the emperor expeiiencing on* this, as well as on former occasions, that nis
jurisdiction was more extensive than his revenues, and that the former en-
abled him to assemble a greater number of soldiers than the latter were-
sufficient to support. Upon aU these accounts, he found it difficult to keep
his army in the field ; some of his ablest generals, and even the duke of Aha
himself, persevering and obstinate as he usually was in the prosecution of
every measure, advising him to disperse his troops into winter-quarters.
But as the arguments urged against any plan which he had adopted rarely
made much imnression upon the emperor, he paid no regard to their opinion,
and determined to continue his eftbrts, in order to weary out the confede-
rates, being well assured that, if he could once oblige them to separate, there
was little probability of their unitmg again in a body.^^* Still, however, it re-

«> Sleid. p. 403.

5» Belli Smalkaldici Commentarius Graeco sermone Bcriptus a Joach. Oiinerario, aa
Freher. vol. iii. p. 479.
« Camerar. ap. Freher. p. 483, 33 Thuan. p. 83.

9

S54 MAUllICE Off SAXOITY'S league with CHiRLES. [BOOK VIIL

mained a doubtful point, whether his steadiness was most likely to fail, or
their zeal to be exliausted. It v/as still uncertain which party, by first divid-
mg its forces, would give the superiority to the other, when an unexpected
event; decided the contest, and occasioned a fatal reverse in the afiairs of the
confederates.

Maurice of Saxony having iasinuated himself into the emperor's confidence,
by the arts which have already been described, no sooner sav\r hostilities ready
to break out between the confederates of Smalkalde and that monarch, than
vast prospects of ambition began to open upon iiira. That portion of Saxony,
which descended to him from his ancestors, was far from satisfying his aspiring
mind; and he perceived with pleasure the approach of civil war, as, amidst
the revolutions and convulsions occasioned by it, opportunities of acquirmg
additional power or dignity, which at other times are sought in vain, present
themselves to an enterprising spirit. As he was thoroughly acquainted with
the state of the two contending parties, and the qualities of their leaders, he
did not hesitate long in determiuing on which side the greatest advantages
were to be expected. Having revolved all these things m his own breast, and
having taken his final resolution of joining the emperor, he prudently deter-
mined to declare early in his favour ; that, by the merit of this, he might ac-
quire a title to a proportional recompense. With this view, he had repaired
to Ratisbon in the month of May, under pretext of attending the diet ; and
after many interviews with Charles or his ministers, he, with the most mys-
terious secrecy, concluded a treaty, in which he engaged to concur in assist-
ing the emperor as a faithful subject; and Charles, in return, stipulated to
bestov/ on him all the spoils of the elector of Saxony, his dignities as well as
territories.^* History hardly records any treaty that can be considered as a
more manifest violation of the most powerful principles which ought to infiu-
ence human actions. Maurice, a professed protestant, at a time when the
belief of religion, as well as zeal for its interests, took strong possession of
every mind, binds himself to contribute his assistance towards canying on a
war wMch had manifestly no other object than the extirpation of the pro-
testant doctrines. He engages to take arms against his father-in-law, and to
strip his nearest relation of his honours and dominions. He joms a dubious
friend against a known benefactor, to whom his obhgations were both great
and recent. Nor was the prince who ventured upon all this one of those au-
dacious politicians, who, provided they can accomplish their ends, and secui-e
their interest, avowedly disregard the most sacred obligations, and glory in
contemning whatever is honourable or decent. Mauiice's conduct, if the
whole must be ascribed to poKcy, was more artful and masterly ; he executed
his plan in all its parts, and yet endeavoured to preserve, in every step winch
he took, the appearance of what was fair, and virtuous, and laudable. It is
probable, from his subsequent behaviour, that, with regard to the protestant
religion at least, his intentions were upright ; that he fondly trusted to the
emperor's promises for its security ; but that, according to the fate of all who
refine too much in policy, and who tread in dark and crooked paths, in attempt-
ing to deceive others, he himself was, in some degree, deceived.

His first care, however, was to keep the engagements into which he had
entered with the emperor closely concealed ; and so perfect a master was he
in the art of dissunulation, that the confederates, notwithstanding his de-
clining all comiexions with them, and his remarkable assiduity in paying couit
to the emperor, seemed to liave entertained no suspicions of his designs.
Even the elector of Saxony, when he marched at the beginning of the cam-
paign to jom his associates, committed his dominions to Maurice's protection,

»* Haraei Annal, Brabant, vol. i. p. 638. Struvii Corp. 1048. Thaan. p. 84.

opi

i

BOOK Vm.] HIS INTRIGUES. 356

which he, with an insidious appearance of friendship, readily undertook."
But so ■•'••'•' ''-d the elector taken the field, when Maurice bci^an to consult
priva le kini? of the Komans how to invade those very territories,

with I . '' of vvhich he was intrusted. Soon after, the emperor sent

him a copy of ihe imperial ban denounced against the elector and landj»rave.
As he was next heir to the former, and particularly interested in preventing
strangers from fitting his dominions into their possession, Chai'les retiuirea
him, not oulv for his own sake, but upon the allci^iance and duty which he
owed to the head of the empire, instantly to seize and detain in his hands the
forfeited estates of the elector ; warning him, at the same time, that if he
neglected to obey these commands, he should be lield as accessory to the
crimes of his kinsman, and be liable to the same punishment.^

This artifice, which it is probable Maurice himself suggested, was em-
ployed by him in order that his conduct towards the elector might seem a
iiKitter of necessity but not of choice, an act of obedience to his superior,
rather than a voluntary invasion of the rights of his kinsman and allv. But
in order to give some more specious appearance to tliis thin veil with which
lie endeavoured to cover his ambition, he, soon after his return from Ratisbon,
had called together the states of his country ; and, representing to them that
a civil war between the emperor and confederates of Sm^alde was now be-
come unavoidable, desu-ed their advice with regard to the part which he
shoidd act in that event. They having been prepared, no doubt, and tutored
beforehand, and being desirous of gratifying their prince, w^hom they esteemed
as well as loved, gave such counsel as they knew would be most agreeable ;
advising him to offer his mediation towards reconciling the contending parties ;
but if that were rejected, and he could obtain proper security for the pro-
testant religion, they delivered it as their opinion, that, in all other points.
he ought to yield obedience to the emperor. Upon receiving the imperial
rescript, together with the ban against the elector and landgrave, Maurice
summoned the states of his country a second time ; he laid before them the
orders which he had received, and mentioned the punishment with which he
was threatened in case of disobedience ; he acquainted them that the confede-
rates had refused to admit of his mediation, and that the emperor had ^iven
him the most satisfact ory declarations witn regard to religion ; he pomted
out his own interest in securing possession of the electoral dominions, as well
as the danger of allowing strangers to obtain an establishment in Saxony;
and upon the whole, as the point under deliberation respected his subjects no
' 3S than himself, he desired to know their sentiments, how he should steer in

at difficult and arduous conjuncture. The states, no less obsequious and

implaisant than formerly, professing their own reliance on the emperor's
promises as a perfect secui'ity for their religion, proposed tliat, before he had
recourse to more violent methods, they would write to the elector, exhorting
him, as the best means, not only of appeasing the emperor, but of preventing
his dominions from being seized by foreign or hostile powers, to give his
consent that Maurice should take possession of them quietly and without
opposition. Maurice himself seconded their arguments in a letter to the
' iidgrave, his father-in-law. Such an extravagant proposition was rejected

ith the scorn and indignation which it deserved. The landgrave, in return
Maurice, taxed him with his treachery and ingratitude towards a kinsman
whom he was so deeply indebted ; he treated with contempt his ail'ectation
^ executing the imperial ban, which he could not but know to be altogether
void by the unconstitutional and arbitrary manner in which it had been issued ;
he besought him not to sulFer himself to be so far blinded by ambition, as to

I

« Struvii Corp. 1046. 'e Skid. p. 391. Tliuan. p. 84.

2a2

35G MAURICE INVADES SAXONY. [BOOK VIII,

forget the obligations of honour and friendship, or to betray the protestant
religion, the extirpation of which out of Germany, even by the acknowledg-
ment of the pope himself, was the great object of the present war.*^

But Maurice had proceeded too far to be diverted from pursuing his plan
by reproaches or arguments. Nothing now remained but to execute \vitli
vigour, what he had hitherto carried on by artifice and dissimulation. Nor
was his boldness in action inferior to his subtlety in contrivance. Having
assembled about twelve thousand men, he suddenly invaded one part of the
electoral provmces, while Terdinand, with an army composed of Bohemians
and Hungarians, overran the other. Maurice, in two sharp encounters, de-
feated the troops which the elector had left to guard his country • and im-
proving these advantages to the utmost, made himself master of all the elec-
tprate, except Wittemoerg, Gotha, and Eisenach, which, being places of con-
siderable strength, and defended by sufficient garrisons, refused to open their
gates. The news of these rapid conquests soon reached the imperial and
confederate camps. In the former, their satisfaction with an event which it
was foreseen would be productive of the most important consequences, was
expressed by every possible demonstration of joy : the latter was filled with
astonishment and terror. The name of Maurice was mentioned with execra-
tion, as an apostate from religion, a betrayer of the German liberty, and a
contemner of the most sacred and natural ties. Everything that the rage
or invention of the party could suggest, in order to blacken and render him
odious ; invectives, satires, and lampoons, the furious declamations of their
preachers, together with the rude wit of their authors, were all employed
against him;, while he, confiding in the arts which he had so_ long practised,
as if his actions could have admitted of any serious justification, published a
manifesto, containing the same frivolous reasons for his conduct, which he
had formerly alleged in the meeting of his states, and in his letter to the land-
grave.^^

The elector, upon the first intelligence of Maurice's motions, proposed
to return home with his troops for the defence of Saxony. But the deputies
of the league, assembled at Ulm, prevailed on him at that time to remain with
the army, and to prefer the success of the common cause before tlie security
of his own dominions. At length the sufferings and complaints of his sub-
jects increased so much, that he discovered the utmost impatience to set out,
in order to rescue them from the oppression of Maurice and from the cruelty
of the Hungarians, who, having been accustomed to that licentious and mer-
ciless species of war which was thought lawful against the Turks, committed,
wherever they came, the wildest acts of rapine and violence. This desire
of the elector was so natural and so warmly urged, that the deputies at
Ulm, though fully sensible of the unhappy consequences of dividing their
army, durst not refuse their consent, how unwilling soever to grant it. In this
perplexity, they repaired to the camp of the confederates of Giengen, on the
Brenz, in order to consult their constituents. Nor were ihej less at a loss
what to determine in this pressing emergence. But, after having considered
seriously the open desertion of some of their allies ; the scandalous luke-
warmness of others, who had hitherto contributed nothing towards the war ;
the intolerable load which had fallen of consequence upon such members as
were most zealous for the cause, or most faithful to their engagements ; the
ill success of all their endeavours to obtain foreign aid ; the unusual length of
the campaign ; the rigour of the season ; together with the great number of
soldiers, and even officers, who had quitted the service on that account ; ther
concluded that nothing could save them but either bringmg the contest to the

" Sleid. p. 405, &c. Thuau. p. 85. Camerar. p. 484. ss sieid. pp. 409, 410.

BOOK VIII.] SUBMISSION OP THE CONFEDERATES. 357

immediate decision of a battle, by attacking the imperial army, or an accom-
modation of all their dift'crcnccs with Charles bv a treaty. Such was the
(l('.s[)oudency and dejection which now opprcssea the party, that of these
t\yo they cliose what was most feeble and unmanly, empowering a minister
of the elector of Brandenburg to propound overtures of peace in tneir name to
the emperor.

No sooner did Charles perceive this haughty confederacy, which had so
lately threatened to drive him out of Germany, condescenaing to make the
first advances towards an agreement, than concluding their spirit to be gone,
T their union to be broken, he immediately assumed the tone of a cods
iueror ; and, as if they had been already at his mercy, would not hear of a
negotiation, but upon condition that the elector of Saxony should previously
give up himself and his dominions absolutely to his disposal.^^ As nothing
more intolerable or ignominious could have been i)rescribed, even in the
worst situation of their affairs, it is no wonder that this proposition should be
rejected by a party, which was rather humbled and disconcerted than sub-
dued. But thougli they refused to submit tamely to the emperor's will, they
wanted spirit to pursue the only plan which could have preserved their in-
dependence ; and forgetting that it was the miion of their troops in one body
which had liitherto rendered the confederacy formidable, and had more than
once obliged the imperialists to think of quitting the field, they incon-
siderately abandoned this advantage, which, in spite of the diversion in
Saxony, would still have kept the emperor in awe ; and, yielding to the
elector's entreaties, consented to his proposal of dividing the army. Nine
thousand men were left in the duchy of Wurtemberg, in order to protect that
province, as well as the free cities of Upper Germany ; a considerable body
marched with the elector towards Saxony ; but the greater part returned
with their respective leaders into their own countries, and were dispersed
there.**

The moment that the troops separated, the confederacy ceased to be the
object of teri'or ; and the members of it, who, while they composed part of a
great bodv, had felt but little anxiety about their own security, began to
tremble when they reflected that they now" stood exposed singly to the whole
weight of the emperor's vengeance. Charles did not allow them leisure to
recover from their consternation, or to form any new schemes of union.
As soon as the confederates began to retire, he put his army in motion, and,
though it was now the depth of winter, he resolved to keep the field, in
order to make the most of that favourable juncture for wliich he had waited
so long. Some small towns, in which the protestauts had left garrisons,
immediately opened their gates. Norlingen, Rotenberg, and Hall, imperial
cities, subiiiitted soon after. Though Charles could not prevent the elector
from levying, as he retreated, large contributions upon the archbishop of
Mentz, the abbot of Tulda, and other ecclesiastics,*' this was more than
balanced by the submission of Ulm, oneof the chief cities of Suabia, highly
distinguished by its zeal for the Smalkaldic league. As soon as an example
was set of deserting the common cause, the rest of the members became
instantly impatient to follow it, and seemed afraid lest others, by getting the
start of them in returning to their duty, should, on that account, obtain more
favourable terms. The elector palatine, a weak prince, who, notwithstanding
his professions of neutrality, had, very preposterously, sent to the confede-
rates four hundred horse, a body so inconsiderable as to be scarcely any ad-
dition to their strength j but great enough to render him guilty in the eyes
of the emperor, made his acknowledgments in the most abject manner. The

» Hortensius, ap. Scard. ii. 485 *« Sleid. p. 411. *' Thuan. p. 88.

■

358 CHARLES TREATS THE CONFEDERATES WITH RIGOUR. [BOOK Vin.

inhabitants of Augsburg, shaken by so many instances of apostasy, expelled
the brave Schertel out of their city, and accepted such conditions as the em
peror was pleased to grant them.

The duke of Wurtemberg, though among the first who had offered to submit,
was obliged to sue for pardon on his knees [1547], and, even after this mor-
tifying_ humiliation, obtained it with difficulty.''^ Memmingen, and other free
cities in the circle of Suabia, being now abandoned by all their fomer asso-
ciates, found it necessary to provide for their own safety, by throwing them-
selves on the emperor's mercy. Strasburg and Frankfort-on-the-Maine, cities
far removed from the seat of danger, discovered no greater steadiness than
those which lay more exposed. Thus a confederacy, lately so powerful as
to shake the imperial throne, fell to pieces, and was dissolved in the space of
a few weeks, hardly any member of that formidable combination now remain-
ing in arms but the elector and landgrave, to whom the emperor, having from
the beginning marked them out as victims of his vengeance, was at no pains
to offer terms of reconciliation. Nor did he grant those who submitted to him
a generous and unconditional pardon. Conscious of his own superiority, he
treated them both with haughtiness and rigour. All the princes in person,
and the cities by their deputies, were compelled to implore mercy in the
humble posture of supplicants. As the emperor laboured under great diffi-
culties from the want of money, he imposed heavy fines upon them, which
he levied with most rapacious exactness. The duke of Wurtemberg paid three
hundred thousand crowns ; the city of Augsburg, a hundred and fifty thou-
sand ; Uhn, a hundred thousand ; "Frankfort, eighty thousand ; Memmingen,
fifty thousand ; and the rest in proportion to their abilities, or their different
degrees of guilt. They were obliged, besides, to renounce the league of Smal-
kalde ; to furnish assistance, if required, towards executing the imperial ban
against the elector and landgrave ; to give up their artillery and warlike store.=i
to the emperor ; to admit garrisons into their principal cities and places of
strength ; and, in this disarmed and dependent situation, to expect the
final award which the emperor should think proper to pronounce when the
war came to an issuC*^ But, amidst the great variety of articles dictated by
Charles on this occasion, he, in conformity to his original plan, took care
that nothing relating to religion should be inserted ; and to such a degree
were the confederates humbled or overawed, that, forgetting the zeal which
had so long animated them, they were solicitous only about their own safety,
without ventm-ing to insist on a point, the mention of which they saw the em-
peror avoiding with so much industry. The inhabitants of Menuningen alone
made some feeble efforts to procure a promise of protection in the exercise
of their religion, but were checked so severely by the imperial ministers, that
they instantly fell from their demand.

The elector of Cologne, whom, notwithstanding the sentence of excommu-
nication issued against him by the pope, Charles had hitherto allowed to
remain in possession of the archiepiscopal see, being now required by the
emperor to submit to the censures of the church, this virtuous and disin-
terested prelate, unwilling to expose his subjects to the miseries of war
on his own account, voluntarily resigned that high dignity. With a modera-
tion becoming his age and character, he chose to enjoy truth, together with
the exercise of his religion, in the retirement of a private life, rather than to
disturb society by engaging in a doubtful and violent struggle in order to
retain his office.**

« Mem. de Rlbier, torn. i. p. 589.

« Sleid. pp. 411, &c. Thuan. lib. iv. 125. Mdm. de Ribier, torn. i. p. 606

" Sleid. p. 418. Thuan. lib. iv. p. 128.

BOOK VJII.] THE rOPE KEC.U5 HIS TROOPS. 8S9

Dm ins? these transactions, the elector of Saxony leached the frontiers
of liis country iinmolested. As Maurice could assemble no force equal to
the army wliicli accompanied him, he in a short time not only recovered
possession of his own temtories, but overran Misnia, and stripped his rival of
all th:it belonged to him, except Dresden and Leipsic, which, heias; towns
of SDUic stren<jth, could not be suddenly reduced. Maurice, obliged to c^uit
; he field, and to shut himself up in his capital, despatched courier ait^r
Kmricr to the emperor, representmg his dangerous situation, and soliciting
him, with the most earnest importunity, to march immediately to his relict.
But Charles, busvat that time in prescribing terms to such members of the
league as were daily returning to their allegiance, thought it sufficient to
detach Albert, marquis of Brandenburg Anspach, with three thousand men,
to his assistance. Albert, though an enterprising and active otlicerj' was un-
expectedly surprised by the elector, who killed many of his troops, dispersed
the remainder, and took him prisoner.''^ Maurice continued as much ex-
posed as formerly ; and if his enemy had known how to improve the oppor-
tunity which presented itself, his ruin must have been inimediate and un-
avoidable. But the elector, no less slow and dilatory when invested with the
sole command than he had been formerly when joined in authority with a
partner, never gave any proof of military activity but in tliis enterprise against
Albert. Instead of marching directly towards Maurice, whom the defeat of
his ally had greatly alarmed, he inconsiderately listened to overtures of accom-
modation, which liis artful antagonist projjosed with no other intention than
to amuse him, and to slacken the vigour of his operations.

Such, indeed, was the posture of the emperor's affairs, that he could not
march instantly to the relief of his ally. Soon after the separation of the
confederate army, he, in order to ease himself of the burden of maintaining a
supei-fluous number of troops, had dismissed the count of Buren with his
Fleminijs,** imagining that the Spaniards and Germans, together with the
papal forces, would dc fully sufficient to crush any degree of vigour that
yet remained among the membei-s of the league. But Paul, growing wise
too late, began now to discern the imprudence of that measure, from which
the more sagacious Venetians had endeavoured in vain to dissuade him.
The rapid progress of the imperial arms, and the ease with which they had
broken a combination that appeared no less firm than powerful, opened his
eyes at length, and made him not onlv forget all the advantages which he had
expected from such a complete triumph over heresy, but placed in the strongest
Light his own impolitic conduct, in having contributed towards acquiring for
Charles such an immense increase of power as would enable him, after op-
pressing the liberties of Germany, to give law with absolute authority to m
the states of Italy. The moment that he perceived his error he endeavoured
to correct it. Without giving the emperor any warning of his intention, he
ordered Famese, his grandson, to return instantly to Italy with all the troops
under his command, and at the same time recalled the licence which he had
granted Charles, of appropriating to his own use a large share of the church
lauds in Spain. He was not destitute of pretences to justify tliis abnipt
desertion of his ally. Tlie term of six months, during which the stipula-
tions in their treaty were to continue in force, was now expired ; the lea^e,
in opposition to which their alliance had been framed, seemed to be entirely
dissipated ; Charles, in ail his negotiations with the princes and cities which,
had submitted to his will, had neither consulted the pope, nor liad allotted
him any part of ihe conquests whidi he had made, nor had allowed hun any

« Avila, p. 99, G. Mem. de Ribier, torn. i. p. 620.
« Ibid. p. 83, 6. Ibid. torn. i. p. 502.

360 CONSPIEACY IN GENOA. [bOOK VHI.

share in the vast contributions which he had raised. He nad not even made
any provision for the suppression of heresy, or the re-establisliment of the
catholic reHgion, which were Paul's chief inducements to bestow the trea-
sures of the church so liberally in carrying on the war. These colours, how-
ever specious, did not conceal from the emperor that secret jealousy which
was the true motive of the pope's conduct. But, as Paul's orders with,
regard to the march of his troops were no less peremptory than unexpected,
it was impossible to prevent their retreat. Charles exclaimed loudly against
his treachery, in abandoning him so unseasonably, while he was prosecuting
a war undertaken in obedience to the papal iniunctious, and from which, u
successful, so much honour and advantage would redound to the church. To
complaints he added threats and expostulations. But Paul remained inflexible ;
his troops continued their march towards the ecclesiastical state ; and in au
elaborate memorial, intended as an apology for his conduct, he discovered
new and more manifest symptoms of alienation from the emperor, together
with a deep-rooted dread of lus power."^ Charles, weakened by the withdraw-
ing of so great a body from his army, which was already much diminished by
the number of garrisons that lie had been obliged to throw into the towns
which had capitulated, found it necessary to recruit his forces by new levies,
before he could venture to march in person towards Saxony.

The fame and splendour of his success could not have failed of attracting
such multitudes of soldiers into his service from all the extensive territories
now subject to his authority, as must have soon put him in a condition of
taking the field against the elector ; but the sudden and violent irruption of
a conspiracy at Genoa, as well as the great revolutions which that event,
exceedingly mysterious in its first appearances, seemed to portend, obliged
him to avoid entangling himself in new operations in Germany, until he had
fully discovered its source and tendency. The form of govenmient which had
been established in Genoa, at the time when Andrew Doria restored liberty
to his country, though calculated to obliterate the memory of former dis-
sensions, and received at first with eager approbation, did not, after a trial of
nearly twenty years, give universal satisfaction to those turbulent and factious
republicans. As the entire administration of affairs was now lodged in a
certain number of noble families, many, envying them that pre-eminence,
wished for the restitution of a popular government, to which they had been
accustomed; and, though all reverenced the disinterested virtue of Doria,
and admired his talents, not a few were jealous of that ascendant wliich he
had acquired in the councils of the commonwealth. His age, however, his
moderation, and his love of liberty, afforded ample security to his countrymen
that he would not abuse his power, nor stain the close of his days bv at-
tempting to overturn that fabric, which it had been the labour and pride of
his life to erect. But the authority and influence which in his hands were
innocent, they easily saw would prove destructive, if usurped by any citizen
of greater ambition, or less virtue. A citizen of this dangerous character
had actually formed such pretensions, and with some prospect of success.
Giannetino Doria, whom his grand-uncle Andrew destined to be the heir of
his private fortune, aimed likewise at being his successor in power. His
temper, haughty, insolent and overbearmg to such a degree as would hardly
have been tolerated in one bom to rei^n, was altogether insupportable in the
citizen of a free state. The more sagacious among the Genoese akeady feared
and hated him as the enemy of those liberties for which they were indebted
to his uncle j while Andrew himself, blinded by that violent and undiscerning
affection which persons in advanced age often contract for the younger mem-

*7 F. Paul, p. 208. Pallavic. par. ii. p 5 Thuan. p. 126.

BOOK VIII,] riESCO, COUNT OF LA.VAGNA. 361

bers of their family, set no bounds to the indulgence with wliioh he treated
liim ; secminff less solicitous to secure and perpetuate the freedom of the
commonwealth than to aggrandize that undeservmg kinsman.

But whatever suspicion of Doria's designs, or whatever dissatisfaction with
the system of administration in the commonwealth these circumstances might
have occasioned, they would have ended^ it is probable, in nothing more than
murmuring and complaints, if John Lewis riesco, count of Lavagna, ob-
scrv'iug this growing disgust, had not been encouraged bv it to attempt one
of the boldest actions recorded in history. That young nobleman, the richest
and most illustrious subject in the republic, possessed, in an eminent degree,
all the qualities which win upon the human heart, which command respect
or secure attachment. He was graceful and majestic in his person ; magni-
ficent even to profusion ; of a generosity that anticipated the wishes of his
friends, and exceeded the expectations of strangers ; of an insinuating address,
gentle manners, and a flowing ail'ability. But, under the appearance of these
virtues, wliich seemed to form him for enjoying and adorning social life, he
concealed all the dispositions which mark men out for taking the lead in the
most dangerous and dark conspiracies; an insatiable and restless ambition,
a courage unacquainted with fear, and a mind that disdained subordination.
Such a temper could ill brook that station of inferiority, wherein he was
placed in the republic • and^ as he envied the power wliich the elder Doria
had acquired, he was filled with indignation at the thoughts of its descending,
like an hereditary possession, to Giannetino. Thes^ various passions, preying
with violence on his turbulent and aspiring mind, determined him to attempt
overturning that domination to which he could not submit.

As the most effectual method of accomplishing this, he thought at first of
fonning a connexion with Erancis, and even proposed it to the French ambas-
sador at Rome ; and, after expelling Doria, together with the imperial faction,
by his assistance, he offered to put the republic once more under the pro-
tection of that monarch, hoping in return for that service to be intrusted
with the principal share in the administration of government. But having
communicated his scheme to a few chosen confidants, from whom he kept
nothing secret, Verrina, the chief of them, a man of desperate fortune, capable
alike of advising and executing the most audacious deeds, remonstrated with
eaniestness against the folly of exposing himself to the most imminent danger,
while he allowed another to reap all the fruits of his success ; and exhorted
him warmly to aim himself at that pre-eminence in his country, to which he

Iks destined by his illustrious birth, was called by the voice of his fellow-
lizens, and would be raised by the zeal of his friends. This discourse opened
ch great prospects to Fiesco, and so suitable to his genius, that, abandoning
s own plan, he eagerly adopted that of Verrina. The other persons present,
ough sensible of the hazardous nature of the undertaking, did not choose
condemn what their patron had so warmly approved. It was instantly
solved, in this dark cabal, to assassinate the two Dorias, as well as the
principal persons of their party, to overturn the estabHshed system of go-
^ erament, and to place Fiesco on the ducal throne of Genoa. Time, how-
ever, and preparations were requisite to ripen such a design for execution ;
and while he was employed in carrying on these^ Fiesco made his chief care
to guard against everything that miglit betray his secret, or create suspicion.
The disguise he as^sumed was, of all others, the most impenetrable. He
seemed to be abandoned entirely to pleasure and dissipation. A perpetual
'ety, diversified by the pursuit of ail the amusements in which persons of
age and rank are apt to delight, engrossed, in appearance, the whole of
time and thoughts. But amidst this hurry of dissipation, he prosecuted
his plan with the most cool attention, neither retarding the 4esign by a timid

L

362 PSEPAHATIONS OP THE CONSPIRATORS. LbOOK VHI.

hesitation, nor precipitating the execution by an excess of impatience. He
continued his correspondence with the French ambassador at Jdome, thou^-h
without communicating to him his real intentions, that, by his means, j^e
might secure the protection of the Erench arms, if hereafter he should 'find
it necessary to call them to his aid. He entered into a close confederacy
with Farnese, duke of Parma, who, being disgusted with the emperor for re-
fusing to grant him the investiture of that duchy, was eager to promote any
measure that tended to diminish his influence in Italy^ or to niin a family so
implicitly devoted to him as that of Doria. Being sensible that, in a maritime
state, the acquisition of naval power was what he ought chiefly to aim at, he
purchased four galleys from the pope, who, probably, was not unacquainted
with the design which he had formed, and did not disapprove of it. Under
colour of fitting out one of these galleys to sail on a cruise agamst the Turks,
he not only assembled a good number of his own vassals, but engaged in his
service many bold adventurers, whom the truce between the emperor and
Solyman had deprived of their usual occupation and subsistence,

^ While Fiesco was taking these important steps, he preserved so admirably
his usual appearance of being devoted entirely to pleasure and amusement,
and paid court with such artful address to the two Dorias, as imposed not
only on the gener9us and unsuspicious mind of Andrew, but deceived Gian-
netino, who, conscious of his own criminal intentions, was more apt to dis-
trust the designs of others. So many instruments being now prepared,
nothing remained but to strike the blow. Various consultations \\ere held
by Fiesco with his confidants, in order to settle the manner of doing it with
the greatest certainty and effect. At first, they proposed to murder the
Dorias and their chief adlierents, during the celebration of high mass in tne
principal church ; but as Andrew was often absent from religious solemnities,
on account of his great age, that design was laid aside. It was then con-
certed that Fiesco should invite the uncle and nephew, with all their friends
whom he had marked out as victims, to his house, where it w^ould be easy to
cut them off at once without danger or resistance ; but as Giannetino was
obliged to leave the town on the day which they had chosen, it became ne-
cessary likewise to alter this plan. They at last determined to attempt by
open force what they found difficult to effect by stratagem, and fixed on the
night between the second and third of January for the execution of their en-
terprise. The time was chosen with great propriety ; for as the doge of the
fonner year was to quit his ofiice, according to custom, on the first of the
month, and his successor could not be elected sooner than the fourth, the
republic remained during that interval in a sort of anarchy, and Fiesco migh :
with less violence take possession of the vacant dignity.

The morning of that day, Fiesco employed m visiting his friends, passmg
some hours among them, with a spirit as gay and unemban-assed as at other
times. Towards evening he paid court to the Dorias with his usiial marks ol
respect, and, surveymg their countenance and behaviour with the attention
natural in his situation, was happy to observe the perfect security m which
they remained, without the least foresight or dread of that storm which had
been so long a gathering, and was now ready to burst over their heads.
From their palace he hastened to his own, which stood by itself in the middle
of a large court, surrounded by a high wall. The gates had been set open in
the morning, and all persons, without distinction, were allowed to enter, but
strong guards posted within the court suffered no one to return. Yerrina,
meanwhile, and a few persons trusted with the secret of the conspiracy, after
conducting Fiesco's vassals, as well as the crev/s of his galleys, into the palace
in small bodies, with as little noise as possible, dispersed themselves through
the city, and, in the name of their patron, invited to an entertainment "n«

BOOK VIUj FIESCO'S INTERVIEW Wllfl HIS WIFE. 363

principal citizens whom they knew to be disgusted with the acLrjuistration
of tlic Dorias, and to have inclination as well as courag;c to attempt a change
in tlie governmeut. Of the vast number of persons who now filled the palace,
a few only knew for what purpose they were assembled ; the rest, astonished
at Imtlinir, instead of the preparations for a feast, a court crowded with armed
men, and ajmrtments filled with the instnmients of war, gazed on each other
with a mixture of curiosity, impatience, and terror.

While liieir ramds were in this state of sus})ense and agitation, Fiesco ap-
peiired. With a look fidl of alacrity and contidence, he addressal himself lo
the persons of chief distinction, telling them, that they were not now called
to |)artake of the pleasm-e of an entertainment, but to join in a deed of valour,
which would lead them to hberty and immortal renown. He set before their
eyes the exorbitant as well as intolerable authority of the elder DorisL which
the ambition of Giannetiuo, and the partiality of the emperor to a family more
devoted to him than to their country, was about to enlarge and to render
perpetual. " This uni'ighteous dominion," continued he, " you have it now in
vour power to subvert, and to establish the freedom of your country on a finn
basis. The tyrants must be cut olf. I have taken the most efi'ectual mea-
sures for this purpose. My associates are numerous. I can depend on allies
and protectors if necessary. Happily, the tyrants are as secure as 1 have
been provident. Their insolent contempt of their countrj'men has banished
the suspicion and timidity which usually render the guUty quick-sighted to
discern, as well as sagacious to guard gainst, the vengeance which they de-
serve. They will now feel the blow, before they suspect any hostile hand to
be nigh. Let us, then, sally forth, that we may deliver our country by one
generous effort, almost unaccompanied with danger, and certain of success."
These words, uttered with that irresistible fervour which animates the mind
when roused by great objects, made the desired impression on the audience.
I'lesco's vassals, ready to execute whatever their master should command, re-
ceived his discourse with a murmur of applause. To many, whose fortunes
were desperate, the licence and confusion ot an insurrection afforded an agree-
able prospect. Those of higher rank, and more virtuous sentiments, durst
not discover the surprise or horror with which they were struck at the pro-
jjosal of an enterprise no less unexpected than atrocious, as each of them
imaghicd the other to be in the secret of the conspiracy, and saw himself
.surrounded by persons who waited only a signal from their leader to per-
petrate the greatest crime. With one voice, then, all applauded, or feigned
to applaud, the midertaking.

i'lesco havmg thus iixed and encouraged his associates, before he gave them
his last orders, he hastened for a moment to the apai'tment of his wife, a lady
of the noble house of Cibo, whom he loved with tender affection, and whose
beauty and virtue rendered her worthy of his love. The noise of the armed
men who crowded the court and palace, having long before this reached her
ears, she concluded some hazardous enterprise to be in hand, and she trembled
for her husband. He found her in all the anguish of uncertainty and fear^
and, as it was now impossible to keep his design concealed, he informed her
of what he had undertaken. The prospect of a scene so full of horror, as well
as danger, completed her agony ; and foreboding immediately in her mind the
fatal issue of it, she endeavoured bv her tears, her entreaties, and her despau:,
to divert him from his purpose, i^iesco, after trying in v£un to soothe and to
inspire her with hope, broke from a situation mto which an excess of tender-
ness had unwarily seduced him, though it could not shake his resolution.
"I'arewell!" he cried, as he quitted the apartment; "you shall either never
bee me more, or you shall behold to-morrow everything in Genoa subject to
your power."

364 DEATH or FIESOO. [book VIII.

As soon as he rejoined his companions, he allotted each his proper station ;
some were appointed to assault and seize the different gates of the city ; some
to make themselves masters of the principal streets or places of strength :
Eiesco reserved for himself the attack of tne harbour where Doria's gaUeys
were laid up, as the post of chief importance, and of greatest danger. It was
now midnight, and the citizens slept in tlie security of peace, when this band
of conspirators, numerous, desperate, and well armed, rushed out to execute
their plan. They surprised some of the gates, without meeting with any re-
sistance. They got possession of others, after a sharp conflict with the
soldiers on guard. Verrina, with the gaUey which had been fitted out against
the l\trks, blocked up the mouth of the Darsena, or Httle harbour where
Doria's fleet lay. All possibility of escape being cut off" by this precaution,
when Fiesco attempted to_ enter the galleys from the shore, to which they
were made fast, they were in no condition to make resistance, as they were
not only unrigged and disarmed, but had no crew on board, except the slaves
chained to the oar. Every quarter of the city was now filled with noise and
tumult, aU the streets resounding with the cry of '^ Fiesco!" and " Liberty P'
At that name, so popular and beloved, many of the lower rank took arms,
and joined the conspirators. The nobles and partisans of the aristocracy,
astonished or affrighted, shut the gates of their houses, and thought of nothing
but of securing them from piUage. At last, the_ noise excited by this scene
of violence and confusion reached the palace of Doria. Giannetino started
immediately from his bed, and. imagiumg that it was occasioned bv some
mutiny among the sailors, rushed out with a few attendants, and hurried
towarcls the harbour. The gate of St. Thomas, through which he had to pass,
was already in possession of the conspirators, who, the moment he appeared,
fell upon him with the utmost fury, and murdered him on the spot. The
same must have been the fate of the elder Doria, if Jerome de Eiesco had
executed his brother's plan, and had proceeded immediately to attack him in
his palace: but he, from the sordid consideration of preventing its being
plundered amidst the confusion, having forbid his followers to advance, An-
drew got intelligence of his nephew's death, as well as of his own danger :
and, mounting on horseback, saved himself by flight. Amidst this general
consternation, a few senators had the courage to assemble ui the palace of the
republic.*^ At first, some of the most daring among them attempted to rally
the scattered soldiers, and to attack a body of the conspirators ; but, bein^
repulsed with loss, all agreed that nothing now remained but to treat with
the party which seemed to be irresistible. Deputies were accordingly sent to
learn of Eiesco what were the concessions with which he would be satisfied,
or rather to submit to whatever terms he should please to prescribe.

But by this time Fiesco, with whom they w^ere empowered to negotiate, was
no more. Just as he was about to leave the harbour, where everything had
succeeded to his wish, that he might join his victorious companions, he heard
some extraordinary uproar on board the admiral's galley. Alarmed at the
noise, and fearing that the slaves might break their chains, and overpower
his associates, he ran thither ; but the plank which reached from the shore
to the vessel happening to oyertum, lie fell into the sea, whilst he hurried
forward too precipitately. Being loaded with heavy armour, he sunk to the
bottom, and perished in the very moment when he must have taken full pos-
session of everything that his ambitious heart could desire. Verrma was the
first who discovered this fatal accident, and foreseeing at once all its conse-
quences, concealed it with the utmost industry from every one but a few
leaders of the conspiracy. Nor was it difficult amidst the darkness and con-

*• II palazzo della signoria.

aOOK VlII.l PAILTJKE OF TJ1£ CONSPIBACY. 366

fusion of the night, to have kept it secret, until a treaty with the senators
should have put the city in the power of the conspirators. All their hopes of
this were disconcerted by the imj)rudeuec of Jerome Ficsco, who, when the
deputies of the senate inquired tor his brother, the count of Lavagna, that
they might make their proposal to him, replied with a childish vanity, " I am
now the only person to whom that title belongs, and with me you must treat."
I'liesc words discovered, as well to his friends as to his enemies, what had
liai)peued, and made the impression ^\hich might have been expected upon
both. The deputies, encouraged by this event, the only one which could
occasion such a sudden revolution as might turn to their advantage, assumed
instantly, with admirable presence of mind, a new tone, suitable to tne change
in their circumstances, and made high demands. While they endeavoured to
n:ain time by protracting the negotiation, the rest of the senators were busy
in assembling tiieir partisans, and in forming a body capable of defending the
l)alacc of the republic. On the other hand, the conspirators, astonished at
the death of a man whom they adored and trusted, and placing no confidence
in Jerome, a giddy youth, felt their courage die away, and their arms fall from
their hands. That profound and amazing secrecy with which the conspiracy
liad been concerted, and which had contributed hitherto so much to its suc-
cess, proved now the chief cause of its miscarriage. The leader was gone ;
the greater part of those who acted under him knew not his confidants, and
were strangers to the object at which he aimed. There was no person among
them whose authority or abilities entitled him to assume Tiesco's place, or
to finish his plan : after having lost the spirit which animated it, life and
activity deserted the whole body. Many of the conspirators withdrew to
their houses, hoping that, amidst the darkness of the night, they had passed
unobserved, and might remain unknown. Others sought for safety by a timely
retreat ; and. before break of day, most of them fled with precipitation from
a city, which, but a few hours before, was ready to acknowledge them as
masters.

Next morning everything was quiet in Genoa • not an enemy was to be seen ;
few marks of the violence of the former night appeared, the conspirators
having conducted their enterprise with more noise than bloodshed, and gained
all their advantages by surprise, rather than by force of arms. Towards
evening Andre\y Doria returned to the city, being met by all the inliabitants,
who received liim with acclamations of ioy. Though the disgrace as well as
danger of the preceding night were fresii in his mind, and the mangled body
of his kinsman stUl before nis eyes, such was his moaeration as well as mag-
nanimity, that the decree issued by the senate against the conspirators did
not exceed that just measure of severitv which was requisite for the support
of government, and was dictated neitner by the violence of resentment nor
the rancour of revenge."'^

After taking the necessary precautions for preventing the flame which was
now so happily extinguished from breaking out anew, the first care of the
senate was to send an ambassador to the emperor, to give him a particular
detail of what had happened, and to beg his assistance towards the reduction

« Thuan. p. 93. Sigonii Vita Andreae Doriae, 1196. La Conjuration du Comte do

lesque, par le Cardin. de Retz. Adriani, Istoria, lib. vi. p. 369. Folietae Conjuratio Jo.

Lud, Fiesci, ap. Graev. Thes. Ital. i. 883.

^^^It is remarkable, that Cardinal de Retz, at the age of eighteen, composed a history of

^^^is conspiracy, containing such a discovery of his admiration of Fiesco and his enter-

^■ouli
^Hmng

se, as renders it not surprising that a minister so lealous and discerning as Richelieu,
auld be led, by the perusal of it, to predict the turbulent and dangerous spirit of that
3g ecclesiastic. l\6m. de Keta torn, i. p 13.

366 riiANcis*s coisrBrNATioiN^s against chahles. [book IX

of Montobbio, a strong fort on the hereditary estate of the Fiesci, in which
Jerome had shut himself up. Charles was no less alarmed than astonished at
an event so strange and unexpected. He could not believe that Fiesco, how
bold or adventurous soever, durst have attempted such an enterprise, but on
foreign suggestion, and from the hope of foreign aid. Being informed that the
duke of Parma was well acquainted with the plan of the conspirators, he im-
mediately supposed that the pope could not be ignorant of a measure which
his son had countenanced. Proceeding from this to a farther conjecture,
which Paul's cautious maxims of policy in other instances rendered extremely
probable, he concluded that the Prench king must have known and approved
of the design ; and he began to apprehend that this spark might again kindle
the flame of war vfliich had raged so long in Italy. As he had drained his
Italian territories of troops on account of the German war, he was altogether
unprovided for resisting any hostile attack in that country ; and, on the first
appearance of danger, he must have _ detached thither the greatest part of
his forces for its defence. In this situation of aifairs, it would have been
altogether imprudent in the emperor to have advanced in person agaiast the
elector, until he should learn, with some degree of certainty, whether such a
scene were not about to open in Italy as might put it out of his power to keep
the field with an army sufficient to oppose him.

BOOK IX.

Francis, jealous of the Emperor, endeavours to form Alliances against hitn — Death of
Francis — The Emperor marches against the Elector of Saxony — Battle of Mulliausen
— The Elector taken Prisoner — Charles invests AVittemberg — His ungenerous Treat-
ment of the Elector — Maurice put in Possession of the Electoral Dominions — ^I'he
Emperor treacherously detams the Landgrave as a Prisoner — His Pkigour towards his
German Subjects — Ferdinand's Tyranny in Bohemia — Diet at Augsburg — The Council
translated from Trent to Bologna — Assassination of the Pope's Son — The Pope's Dread
of the Emperor — Contest as to the Place of Session of the Council — Compliance with
" The Interim" enforced by the Emperor — The Pope dismisses the Council assembled
at Bologna — The Emperor receives his Son Philip in the Low Courtries.

The emperor's dread of the hostile intentions of the pope and French lAm
did not proceed from any imaginary or ill-grounded suspicion. Paul had
already given the strongest proofs, both of his jealousy ana enpfiity. Charles
could not hope that Francis, after a rivalship of so long continuance, would
behold the great advantages wliich he had gained over the confederate protest-
ants, without feeling his ancient emulation revive. He was not deceived in
this conjecture. Francis had observed the rapid progress of his arms with
deep concern, and though hitherto prevented, by circumstances which have
been mentioned, from intei-posiug in order to check them, he was now con-
vinced that, if he did not make some extraordinary and timely effort, Charles
must acquire such a degree of power as would enable him to give law to the
rest of Europe. This apprehension, which did not take its rise from the jea-
lousy of rivalship alone, but was entertained by the wisest politicians of the
age, suggested various expedients which might serve to retard the course of
the emperor's victories, and to form by degrees such a combiaation against
him as might put a stop to his dangerous career.

_ HE TREPAUES TO GOMMENCB HOSTILITIES. 36?

With this vieir, Francis mstrncted his emissaries la Germany to employ all
tlf - in order to revive the conras^ of the confederates, and to j^re-

V( in submit ting to the emperor. He made liberal offers of his as-

si- e elector and lanci^rrave, whom he knew to be the most zealous,

a- • most i)Owerful, of the whole body; he used every ar'niment,

ai. i every advant;iac, which could either confirm their dread of the

ei >i^s, or determine them not to imitate the inconsiderate cre-

d'.i, 1- associates, in giving up their religion and liberties to his dis-

pos:il. \\ hile he took this step towards continuing the civil war which
raged in Germany, he endeavoured likewise to stir up foreign enemies against
the emperor. He solicited Solyman to seize this favouraole opportunity of
invading Hunrary, ^yhich had been drained of all the troops necessary for its
defence, in order to foim the army against the confederates of Smalkaide. He
exhorted the pope to repair, by a vigorous and seasonable effort, the error of
which he had been guilty in contributing to raise the emperor to such a for-
midable height of power. Finding Paul, both from the consciousness of his
own mistake, and his dread of its consequences, abundantly disposed to listen
to what he snggested, he availed himself of this favourable disposition
which the pontitt' began to discover, as an argument to gain the Venetians.
He endeavoured to convince them that nothing could save Italy, and even
Europe, from oppression and servitude, but their joining with the pope and
him, m giving the first beginning to a general confederacy, in order to humble
that ambitious potentate, whom they had all equal reason to dread.

Haviug set on foot these negotiations ui the southern courts, he turned his
attention next towards those in the north of Europe. As the king of Den-
mark had particular reasons to be offended with the emperor, Francis ima-
gined that the object of the league which he had projected would be highly
acceptable to him ; and, lest considerations of caution or prudence shonla
restrain him from joining in it, he attempted to overcome these, by offering
him the young queen of Scots in marriage to his son.* As the ministers
who governed England in the name of Edward YI. had openly declared them-
selves converts to the opinions of the reformers, as soon as it became safe
upon Henry^s death to lay aside that disguise which his intolerant bigotry
had forced them to assume, Francis flattered himself that their zeal would not
allow them to remain inactive spectators of the overthrow and destruction
of those who professed the same faith with themselves. He hoped that, not-
withstanding the struggles of faction incident to a minority, and the prospect
of an approaching rupture with the Scots, he might prevail on them likewise
to take part in the common cause.^

"While Francis employed such a variety of expedients, and exerted himself
with such extraordinary activitv to rouse the different states of Europe
against his rival, he did* not neglect what depended on himself alone. He
levied troops in all parts of his dominions ; he collected military stores ; he
contracted with the Swiss cantons for a considerable body of men ; he put his
finances in admirable order; he remitted considerable, sums to the elector and
landgrave ; and took all the other steps necessary towards commencing hos-
tilities on the shortest warning^ and with the greatest vigour.^

Operations so complicated, and which required the putting so many in-
struments in motion, did not escape the emperor's observation. He was
early informed of Francis's intrigues in the several courts of Europe, as well
as of his domestic preparations ; and, sensible how fatal an interruption
a foreign war would prove to his designs in Germany, he trembled at the
prospect of that event. The danger, however, appeared to him as nn-

» M^in. de Ribicr, torn. i. pp. 600, 606. * Ibid. p. 635. ' Ibid. p. 695.

368 FRANCIS'S DEATH. [liOOK IX.

avoidable as it was great. He knew the insatiable and well-directed ambi-
tion of Solymau, and that he always chose the season for beginning his mili-
tary enterprises with prudence equal to the valour with' which he con-
ducted them. The pope, as he had good reason to believe, wanted not
pretexts to justify a rupture, or inclination to begin hostilities. He had
already made some discovery of his sentiments, by expressing a joy altogether
unbecoming the head of the church, upon receiving an account of the advan-
tage which the elector of Saxony had gained over Albert of Brandenburg ;
and as he was now secure of finding, in the French king, an ally of sufficient
power to support hun, he was at no pains to conceal the violence and extent
of his enmity.* The Venetians, Charles was well assured, had long observed
the growth of his power with jealousy, which, added to the solicitations
and promises of France, might at last quicken their slow councils, and
overcome their natural caution. The Danes and English, it was evident,
had both peculiar reason to be disgusted, as well as strong motives to act
against him. But above all, he dreaded the active emulation of Francis him-
seif, whom he considered as the soul and mover of any confederacy that could
De formed against him ; and, as that monarch had afforded protection to
Yerrina, who sailed directly to Marseilles upon the miscarriage of Fiesco's
conspiracy, Charles expected every moment to see the commencement of
those hostile operations in Italy, of which he conceived the insurrection
in Genoa to have been only the prelude.

But while he remained in this state of suspense and solicitude, there was
one circumstance which afforded him some prospect of escaping the danger.
The French king's health began to decline. A disease, wliich was the effect
of his inconsiderate pursuit of pleasure, preyed gradually on his constitution.
The preparations for war, as well as the negotiations in the different courts,
began to languish, together with the monarch who §ave spirit to both. The
Genoese, during that interval, reduced Montobbio, took Jerome Fiesco
prisoner, and putting him to death, together with his chief adherents, extin-
guished all remains of the conspiracy. Several of the imperial cities in Ger-
many, despairing of timely assistance from France, submitted to the emperor.
Even the landgrave seemed disposed to abandon the elector, and to bring
matters to a speedy accommodation on such terms as he comd obtain. In
the meantime, Charles waited with impatience the issue of a distemper,
which was to decide whether he must relinquish all other schemes, in order
to prepare for resisting a combination of the greater part of Eui'ope against •
him, or whether he might proceed to invade Saxony, without interruption j
or fear of danger. ^ j

The good fortune, so remarkably propitious to his family, that some liis-
torians have called it the star of the house of Austria, did not desert him on
this occasion. Francis died at llambouillet, on the last day of March, in the
fifty-third year of his age, and the thirty-third of his reign. During twenty-
eight years of that time, an avowed rivalship subsisted between liim and the
emperor, wliich involved not only their own dominions, but the greater part
of Europe, in wars, which were prosecuted with more violent animosity,
and drawn out to a greater length, than had been known in any former period.
Many circumstances contributed to this. Their animosity was founded ni
opposition of interest, heightened by personal emulation, and exasperated not
only by mutual injuries, but by reciprocal insults. At the same time, what-
ever advantage one seemed to possess towards gaining the ascendant, was
wonderfully balanced by some favourable circumstance peculiar to the other.
The eciperor's dominions were of greater extent, the French kiug's lay

« M^m. de BIbier, torn. L p. 637.

BOOK rX.J HIS CHARACTER. 369

more compact ; Francis governed his kingdom with absolute i ower ; that
of Charles was limited, but he supplied the want of authority by address : the
troops of the foraier were more mipetuous and enterprising ; those of the
latter better disciplined and more patient of fatigue. The talents and abilities
of the two monarchs were as dilferent as the advantages which they pos-
sessed, and contributed no less to prolong the contest between tliem. Prancis
took his resolutions suddenly, prosecuted them at first with warmth, and

gushed them into execution with a most adventurous courage ; but oeing
cstitute of the perseverance necessary to sunnount difficulties, he often
abandoned liis designs, or relaxed the vigour of pursuit from impatience,
and sometimes from levity. Charles deliberated long, and determined with
coolness ; but having once fixed his plan, he adhered to it with infiexible
obstinacy, and neither danger nor discouragement could turn him aside
from the execution of it. The success of their enterprises was suitable to
the diversity of their characters, and was uniformly influenced by it. Erancis,
bv his impetuous activity, often disconcerted the emperor's best laid schemes ;
Cfharles, by a more calm but steady prosecution of his designs, checked
the rapidity of his rival's career, and baffled or repulsed his most vigorous
efforts. The former, at the opening of a war or of a campaign, broke in upon
his enemy with the violence of a torrent, and carried all before him • the latter
waiting until he saw the force of his rival begin to abate, recovered in the end
not only all that he had lost, but made new acquisitions. Few of the rrench
monarch's attempts towards conquest, whatever promising aspect they
might wear at first, were conducted to a happy issue ; many of the emperor's
enterprises, even after they appeared desperate and impracticable, termi-
nated in the most prosperous manner. Francis was dazzled with the splen-
dour of animdertaking ; Charles was allured by the prospect of its turning to
his advantage.

The degree, however, of their comparative merit and reputation has not
been fixcd^ either by a strict scrutiny into their abilities for government, or by
an impartial consideration of the greatness and success of their undertakings ;
and Francis is one of those monarchs who occupies a higher rank in the temple
of fame than either his talents or performances entitle him to hold. This pre-
eminence he owed to many different circumstances. The superiority which
Charles acquired by the victory of Pavia, and which from that period he
preserved through the remainder of his reign, was so manifest, that Francis's
stniggle against his exorbitant and growing dominion was viewed, by most
of the other powers, not only with the partiality wliich naturally arises for
those who gallantly maintain an unequal contest, but with the 'favour due
to one who was resisting a common enemy, and endeavouring to set bounds
to a monarch equally formidable to them all. The characters of princes,
loo, especially among their contemporaries, depend not only upon their talents
for government, but upon their qualities as men. Francis, notwithstanding
the many errors conspicuous in his foreign policy and domestic administra-
tion, was nevertheless humane, beneficent, generous. He possessed dignity
without pride, affability free from meanness, and coui'tesy exempt from

Ileceit. All who had access to him, and no man of merit was ever denied
hat privileire, respected and loved him. Captivated with his personal quali-
ies, his subjects forgot his defects as a monarch ; and, adminng him as the
aost accomplished and amiable gentleman in his dominions, they hardly
aurmured at acts of mal-administration, which, in a prince of less engaging
tispositions, would have been deemed unpardonable. This admiration, how-
ler, must have been temporary only, and would have died awa^ with the
Durticrs who bestowed it ; the Ulusion arising from his private virtues must
«ve ceased, and posterity would have judged of his public conduct with its
I

' 870 CHAIiliES MAEGHES TO INVADE SAXONY. [BOOK IX.

usual impartiality; but another circumstance prevented this, and his name
hath been transmitted to posterity with increasiug reputation. Science and
the arts had, at that time, made little progress in Erance, They were just
beginning to advance beyond the limits of Italy, where they had revived, and
wMch had hitherto been their only seat. Erancis took them immediately
under his protection, and vied with Leo himself in the zeal and munificence
with which he encouraged them. He invited learned men to his court, he
conversed with them familiarly, he employed them in business, he raised
them to offices of dignity, and honoured them with his confidence. That
order of men, not more prone to complam when denied the respect to which
they conceive themselves entitled, than apt to be pleased when treated with
the distraction wliich they consider as their due, thought they could not ex-
ceed in gratitude to such a benefactor, and strained their invention, and
employed all their ingenuity in panegyric. Succeeding authors, warmed with
their descriptions of Francis's bounty, adopted their encomiums, and ev&D.
added to them. The appellation of father of letters, bestowed upon Erancis,
hath rendered his memory sacred among historians ; and they seem to have
regarded it as a sort of impiety to uncover his infirmities, or to point out his
defects. Thus Erancis, notwithstanding his inferior abilities and want of
success, hath more than equalled the fame of Charles. The good qualities
which he possessed as a man, have entitled him to greater admiration and
praise than nave been bestowed upon the extensive genius and fortunate arts
of a more capable but less amiable rival.

By his death a considerable change was made in the state of Europe.
Charles, grown old in the arts of govermnent and command, had now to con-
tend only with younger monarchs, who could not be regarded as worthy to
enter the lists with liim, who had stood so many encounters with Henry YIII.
and Erancis I., and come off with honour in all these different struggles. By
this event he was eased of aU disquietude, and was happy to find that he
might begin with safety those operations against the elector of Saxony,
wmch he had hitherto been obliged to suspend. He knew the abilities of
Henry II., who had just mounted the throne of Erance, to be greatly
inferior to those of his father, and foresaw that he would be so much oc-
cupied for some time in displacing the late king's ministers, whom he hated,
and in gratifying the ambitious demands of his own favourites, that he had
nothing to dread, either from his personal efforts, or from any confederacy
which this unexperienced prince could form.

But as it was uncertain how long such an interval of security might
continue, Charles determined instantly to improve it ; and as soon as he
heard of Erancis's demise, he began his march from Egra on the borders of
Bohemia. But the departure of the papal troops, together with the retreat
of thcElemings, had so much diminished his army, that sixteen thousand men
were all he could assemble. With this inconsiderable body he set out on an
expedition, the event of w^hicli was to decide what degree of authority he
should possess from that period in Germany ; but as this little army consisted
cliiefly of the veteran Spanish and Italian bands, he did not, in trusting to
them, commit much to the decision of chance ; and even with so small a force
he had reason to entertain the most sanguine hopes of success. The elector
had levied an army greatly superior in number ; but neither the experience
and discipline of his troops, nor the abilities of his officers, were to be
compared with those of the emperor. The elector, besides, had already been
guilty of an error, which deprived him of aU the advantage which he miglit
Wve derived from liis superiority in number, and was alone sufficient to
nave occasioned his ruin. Instead of keeping his forces united, he detached
one great body towards tl^o ^i' -\tiers of Bohemia, in order to facilitate his

^BOOK Et.] PROGRESS OF THE EMPEKOR. 3/1

junction with the malecontents of that kingdom, and cantoned a consideiable
part of what reniained m diiTerent places of Saxony, where he expected the
emperor would make his fu;st impression, vainly imagining that open towns
witli sm;dl gamsons might be rendered tenable agamst an enemy

Ihe emperor entered tlic southern frcmtier of Saxony, and attacked Altorf
upon the Lister The impropriety of tiie measure which the elector had
taken was immediately seen, the troops posted in that town surrendering
witlioutresistance; and those m all the other places between that and the
±ilbe either umtated then- example, or fled as the imperialists approached.
Cnarles, that they mi-ht not recover from the panic with which they seemed
to be struck, advanced without losing a moment. The elector, who had fixed
ins head-quarters at Meissen, couthiued in his wonted state of fluctuation
and uncertainty. He even became more undetermined, in proportion as the
danger drew near rmd caUed for prompt and decisive resolutions. Some-
tunes he acted as if he had resolved to defend the banks of the Elbe, and to
Hazard a battle with the enemy, as soon as the detachments which he had
cal ed in were able to jom hun. At other times he abandoned tliis as rash
and pernous, seermng to adopt the more prudent counsels of those who ad-
vised hull to endeavour at protractmg the war, and for that end to retne
under the lortifications of Wittemberg, where the imperialists could not attack
mm without manifest disadvantage, and where he might wait in safety for the
succours which he expected from Mecklenburg, Pomerania, and the pro-
testant cities on the Baltic. Without fixing on either of these plans, he
broke down the bridge at Meissen, and marched along the east bank of
the JLlbe to Muhlberg. There he deUberated anew, and, after much hesi-
tation, adopted one of those middle schemes which are always acceptable to
tecble mmds mcapable of deciding. He left a detachment at Muhlberg to
oppose the mipenahsts if they should attempt to pass at that place, and ad-
vancing a tew miles with his main body, encamped there in expectation of the
event, accordmg to which he proposed to regulate his subsequent motions.

Uiiules, meanwhile, pushmg forward incessantly, ai-rived the evening of
the twenty-tlnrd of Apnl on the banks of the Elbe, opposite to Muhlberg
Ihe river, at that place, \vas three hundi-ed paces in breadth, above four feet
m depth its current rapid, and the bank possessed by the Saxons was higher
l,."^ 11 f T^'^'h ^^occupied. Undismayed however, by aU these obstacles,
lie caUed together his general officers, and, without asking their opinion
commumcated to them his intention of attempting next morning to force
bjs passage over the river, and to attack the enemy wherever he could come
np with them. They all expressed their astonishment at such a bold resolu-
ol??'ivr • ^""^^ S"^ "^^^ ""^ Alva, though naturally daring and impetuous,
and Maurice of Saxony notwithstandmg his impatience to crush his rival
the elector remonstrated earnestly against it. But the emperor, confidhig in
StloTi"^ judgment or good fortune, paid no regard to their arguments, ^d
gave the orders necessary lor executmg his design

i}..Jr ^"^ ^^A ?°^^° a l^ody of Spanish and Italian foot marched towards
the river, and began an mcessant fire upon the enemy. The lono- heaw
Tft'^' iT'^ '^^ ^^""K^' ^^ execution on the opposite bank,1^1i manT
eLn V ^Ife- Y'?^!^ ?^ ^^ ^ "^^'H^^ ^^^^^ ^^ order to get nearer the
enem;y, rushed into the stream, and, advancmg breast-high, fired with a more
certain aim and with greater efiect. Under ?over of tlfeir fire, a brid^ of
?o PonrW S^'' *° i' ^f^ ^°S*^.^ "^^^^^y,' ^d a neasanthavkgunderfaken
irnf, WpH /' '^["^'^ through^the river by a forj with which he was weU
acauamted, they also were put m motion. The Saxons posted in Mulilber-
tLvS''?l\'.H^lT^ these operations, by a brisk fire fLn a battery whicE
tiiej had erected; but as a thick fog covered all the low grounds, upon the

2 r2

373 CHAHLES CROSSES THE ELBE. [BOOK IX.

river, they could not take aim with any certainty, and the imperialists suffered
very little; at the same time, the Salons being much galled dv the Spaniards
and Italians, they set on fire some boats which had been collected near tne
village, and prepared to retire. The imperiaUsts perceiving this, ten Spanish
soldiers instantly stripped themselves, and holding their swords with their
teeth, swam across the river, put to flight such of the Saxons as ventured
to oppose them, saved from the flames as many boats as were sufficient to
complete their own bridge, and by this spirited and successful action, en-
couraged their companions no less than they intimidated the enemy.

By this time, the cavalry, each trooper having a foot soldier beside him,
began to enter the river, the light horse marching in front, followed by the
men-at-arms, whom the emperor led in person, mounted on a Spanish horse,
dressed in a sumptuous habit, and carrying a javelia in his hand. Such a
numerous body strugg-ling through a great river, in which, according to the
directions of their guide, they were obliged to make several turns, some-
times treading on a firm bottom, sometimes swimming, presented to their
companions whom they left behind, a spectacle equally magnificent and in-
teresting.^ Their courage, at last, surmounted every obstacle, no man be-
traying any symptom of fear, when the emperor shared in the danger no
less than the meanest soldier. The moment that they reached the opposite
side, Charles, without waiting the arrival of the rest oi the infantry, advanced
toAvards the Saxons with the troops which had passed along with him, who,
flushed with their good fortune and despising an enemy who had neglected to
oppose them, when it might have been done with such advantage, made no
account of their superior numbers, and marched on as to a certain victory.

During all these oi)erations, which necessarily consumed much time, the
elector remained inactive in his camp ; and from an infatuation which appears
to be so amazing, that the best-informed historians impute it to the trea-
cherous arts of his generals, who deceived him by false intelligence, he would
not believe that the emperor had passed the river, or could be so near at
hand.° Being convinced, at last, of his fatal mistake, by the concurring tes-
timony of eye-witnesses, he gave orders for retreating towards Wittem-
berg. But a German army, encumbered, as usual, with baggage and artil-
lery, could not be put suddenly in motion. They had just begun to march,
when the light troops of the enemy came in view, and the elector saw an en-
g-agement to be unavoidable. As he was no less bold in action than irresolute
in council, he made the disposition for battle with tlie greatest presence of
mind, and in the most proper manner • taking advantage of a great forest to
cover his wings, so as to prevent his being surrounded by the enemy's
cavalry, which were far more numerous than his own. The emperor, likewise,
ranged liis men in order as they came up, and riding along the ranks, exhorted
tliem with few but efficacious words to do their duty. It was with a very
different spirit that the two armies advanced to the charge. As the day,
which had hitherto been dark and cloudy, happened to clear up at that mo-
ment, this accidental circumstance made an impression on the duferent parties
corresponding to the tone of their minds : tlie Saxons, surprised and dis ■
heartened, felt pain at being exposed fully to the view of the enemy ; the
imperialists, being now secure that the protestant forces could not escape
from them, rejoiced at the return of sunshine as a certain presage of victory.
The shock oi' battle would not have been long doubtful, if the personal
courage which the elector displayed, together with the activity which h(-
exerted from the moment that the approach of the enemy rendered an en-

* Avila, p. 11a, a.

*= Camerar. ap. Freher. iii. 493. Strav. Corp. Hist. Germ. pp. 10^7, 10-19.

BOOK IX.] DEFEAT AND CAPTURE OF THE ELECTOR. 373

gagement certain, and cut off all possibility of hesitation, had not revived ia
some degree the spirit of his troops. They repulsed the Hungarian light-
horse Avlio began tlie attack, and received with firmness the men-at-arma
who next advanced to the charge ; but as these were the flower of the ini
perial army, were commanded by experienced officers, and fought under the
emperor's eve, the Saxons soon began to give way, and the light troops
rallying at the same time, and falling on their Hanks, the flight became ge-
neral. A small body of chosen soldiers, among whom the elector had fought
in person, still continued to defend themselves, and endeavoured to save
their master by retiring into the forest ; but bein» suiTounded on ever>' side,
tlie elector, wounded in the face, exhausted with fatigue, and perceiving
all resistance to be vain, surrendered himself a prisoner. He was conducted
umnediatelv towards the emperor, whom he found just returned from the pur-
suit, standmg on the field of battle in the full exultation of success, and re-
ceiving the congratulations of his officers, upon this complete victory obtained
by his valour and conduct. Even in such an unfortunate and humbling
situation, the elector's behaviour was equally magnanimous and decent.
Sensible of his condition, he approached his conqueror without any of the
sullenness of pride which would have been improper in a captive; and
conscious of his own dignity, he descended to no mean submission, unbecom-
ing the high station which he held among the German princes. " The fortune
of war," said he, " has made me your prisoner, most gracious emperor, and
I hope to be treated — " Here Charles harshly interrupted him : " And am
I then, at last, acknowledged to be emperor ? Charles of Ghent was the
only title you lately allowed me. You shall be treated as you deserve."
At these words he turned from him abruptly with a haughty air. To this
cruel repulse, the kiu^ of the llomans added reproaches in his own name,
using expressions still more ungenerous and insulting. The elector made
no reply; but, with an unaltered countenance, which discovered neither
astonishment nor dejection, accompanied the Spanish soldiers appointed
to guard him.'

This decisive victory cost the imperialists only fifty men. Twelve hundred
of the Saxons were killed, chiefly in the pursuit, ana a greater number taken
prisoners. About four hundred kept in a body, and escaped to Wittemberg,
together with the electoral prince, who had likewise been wounded in the
action. After resting two days on the field of battle, partly to refresh his
anny, and partly to receive the deputies of the adjacent towns, wliich were
impatient to secure his protection by submitting to his will, the emperor
began to move towards Wittemberg, that he might terminate the war at once
by the reduction of that city. The unfortunate elector was carried along in
a sort of triumph, and exposed everywhere, as a captive, to his OAvn subjects ;
a spectacle extreniely afflicting to them, who both honoured and loved him :
though tlie insult was so far from subduing his firm spirit, that it did not
even ruffle the wonted tranquillity and composure of his mind.

As Wittemberg, the resiclence, in that age, of the electoral branch of the
Saxon family, was one of the strongest cities in Germany, and could not be
taken, if properly defended, without great difliculty, the emperor marched
thither with the utmost despatch, hoping that while the consternation occa-
sioned by his victory was still recent, the inhabitants miglit imitate the ex-
ample of tlicir countrymen, and submit to his power, as soon as he appeared
before their walls. But Sybilia of Cleves, the elector's wife, a woman no less

* Sleid. Hist. p. 426. Thuan. p. 136. Hortensius de Bello German, ap. Scard. voL
ii. p. 498. Descript. Pugnae Muhiberg. ibid. p. 509. P. Heuter Ker Austr. lib. xii. c.
13, p 298.

374 THE emperor's ungenerous [book tJt.

distiuguislied by lier abilities than her virtue, instead of abandoning herself
t© tears a.nd lamentations upon her husband's misfortune, endeavoured, by
her example, as well as exhortations, to animate the citizens. She inspired
them with such resolution, that, when summoned to surrender, they returned
a vigorous answer, warning the emperor to behave towards their sovereign
with the respect due to his rank, as they were determined to treat A.lbert of
Brandenburg, who was still a prisoner, precisely in the same manner that he
treated the elector. The spirit of the inhabitants, no less than the strength
of the city, seemed now to render a siege in fonn necessary. After such a
signal victory, it would have been disgraceful not to have undertaken it,
though, at the same time, the emperor vt^as destitute of evervthing recjuisite
for carrying it on. But Maurice removed all difficulties, by engaging to
furnish provisions, artillery, ammunition, pioneers, and whatever else should
be needed. Trusting to this, Charles gave orders to open the trenches before
the town. It quickly appeared, that Maurice's eagerness to reduce the capital
of those dominions, which he expected as his reward for taking arms against
his kinsman, and deserting the protestant cause, had led him to promise what
exceeded his power to perform. A battering train was, indeed, carried safely
down the Elbe from Dresden to Wittemberg ; but as Maurice had not suffi-
cient force to preserve a secure communication between his own territories
and the camp of the besiegers, Count Mansfeldt, who commanded a body of
electoral troops, intercepted and destroyed a convoy of provisions and military
stores, and dispersed a band of pioneers destined for the service of the im-
perialists. This put a stop to the progress of the siege, and convinced the
emperor, that, as he could not rely on Maurice's promises, recourse ought to
be had to some more expeditious as well as more certain method of getting
possession of the town.

The unfortunate elector was in his hands, and Charles was ungenerous and
hard-hearted enough to take advantage of this, in order to make an experi-
ment whether he miglit not bring about his design, by working upon the
tenderness of a wife for her husband, or upon the piety of children towards
their parent. With this view,_ he summoned SybiUa a second time to open the
gates, letting her know that if she again refused to comply, the elector should
answer with his head for her obstinacy. To convince her that this was not
an empty threat, he brought his prisoner to an immediate trial. The pro-
ceedings against him were as irregular as the stratagem was barbarous. In-
stead of consulting the states of the empire, or remitting the cause to any
court, which, according to the German constitution, might have legally taken
cognisance of the elector's crime, he subjected the greatest prince in the
empire to the jurisdiction of a coui't-martial, composed of Spanish and Italian
officers [May 10], and in which the unrelenting duke of Alva, a fit instrmnent
for any act of violence, presided. This strange tribunal founded its charge
upon the ban of the empii-e, which had been issued against the prisoner by the
sole authority of the emperor, and was destitute of every legal fomiality which
could render it vaHd. But the court-martial presmning the elector to be
thereby manifestly convicted of treason and rebellion, condemned him to
suffer death by being beheaded. This decree was intimated to the elector
while he was amusing himself in playing at chess with Ernest of Brunswick,
his fellow-prisoner. He paused for a moment, though without discovering
any symptom either of surprise or terror; and after taking notice of the irre-
gularity as well as injustice of the emperor's proceedings, "It is easy," con-
tinued he, "to comprehend his scheme. I must die, because Wittemberg wiU
not surrender ; and I shall lay do^vn my life with pleasure, if, by that sacrifice,
I can preserve the dignity ot my house, and transmit to my posterity the in-
heritance which belongs to them. Would to God, that this sentence may not

i

BOOK IX.] ♦tKEATMENT OF THE ELECTOR. 375

affect my wife and children more than it intimidates me ; and that t jey, for
the sake of adding a few days to a life already too ionj?, may not renounce
honom-s and territories whicn thev were bom to possess ! "* He then turned
to his antagonist, whom he cliallenged to continue the game. He played
with his usual attention and ingenuity, and, having beat Ernest, expressed all
tiie satisfaction which is commonly felt on gaining such victories. After
tills, he withdrew to his own apai'tinent, that he mi.^ht employ the rest of his
time in sucli religious exercises as were proper in his situation.'*

It was not witJi the same inditi'crence, or composure, that the account of
the elector's danger was received in Wittemberg. Sybilla, who had supported
with such undaunted fortitude her husband's misfortunes, while she imagined
that they could reach no farther than to diminish his power or territories,
felt all her resolution fail as soon as his life was threatened. Solicitous to
save that, she despised every other consideration ; and was willing to make
any sacritice, in order to appease an incensed conqueror. At the same time,
the duke of Cleves, the elector of Brandenburg, and Maurice, to none of
whom Charles had communicated the true motives of his violent proceedings
against the elector, interceded waraily with him to spare his life. The fii*st
was prompted to do so merely by compassion for his sister, and regard for
liis brother-in-law. The two others dreaded the universal reproach tliat they
would incur, if!, after having boasted so often of the ample security which the
emperor had promised them with respect to their religion, the first efl'ect of
theu- union with him should be the public execution of a prince, who wa*
'ustly held in reverence as the most zealous protector of the protestant cause.
Maurice, in particular, foresaw that he must become the object of detestation
to the Saxons, and could never hope to govern them with tranquillity, if he
were considered by them as aocessory to the death of his nearest kinsman, in
order that he might obtain possession of his dominions.

While they, from such various motives, solicited Charles, with the most
earnest importunity, not to execute the sentence, Sybilla, and his children,
conjured the elector, by letters as well as messengers, to scruple at no con-
cession that would extricate him out of the present danger, ana deliver them
from their fears and anguish on his account. The emperor, perceiving that
the expedient which he had tried began to produce the effect that he intended,
fell by degrees from his former rigour, and allowed himself to soften into
promises of clemency and forgiveness, if the elector would show himself
worthy of his favour, by submitting to reasonable terms. The elector, on
whom the consideration of what he might suffer himself had made no im-
pression, was melted by the tears of a wife whom he loved, and could not
resist the entreaties of his family. In compliance with their repeated solicita-
tions, he agreed to articles of accommodation, which he would otherwise have
rejected with disdain. The chief of them were, that he should resign the elec-
toral dignity, as well for himself as for his posterity, into the emperoi-'s hands,
to be disposed of entLely at his pleasure ; that he should instantly put the im-
perial troops in possession of the cities of Wittemberg and Gotha ; that he
sliould set Albert of Brandenburg at liberty without ransom ; that he should
submit to the decrees of the unperial chamber, and acquiesce in whatever
reformation the emperor should make in the constitution of that court ; that
he should renounce all leagues against the emperor or king of the Romans,
and enter into no alliance for the future in which they were not compre-
hended. In return for these important concessions, the emperor not only
promised to spare his life, but to settle on him and his posterity the city of
G-atha and its tenitories, together with an annual pension of fifty thousand

I

8 Thuan. 1 142. » Struvii Corpus, v. 10.30.

876 NEGOTIATIONS WITH THE LANDGEJVE. [BOOK IX.

•floriics, payable out of the revenues of the electorate ; and likewise to grant
him a sum in ready money to be applied towards the discharge of his debts.
Even these articles of grace were clogged with the mortifying condition of his
remaining the emperor's prisoner during the rest of his life.'" To the whole^
Charles had subjoined, that he should submit to the decrees of the pope anti
council with regard to the controverted points in religion ; but the elector,
though he had been persuaded to sacrifice all the objects which men commonly
hold to be the dearest and most valuable, was inflexible with regard to this
point ; and neither threats nor entreaties could prevail to make him renounce
what he deemed to be truth, or persuade him to act in opposition to the
dictates of his conscience.

As soon as the Saxon garrison marched out of Wittemberg, the emperor
fulfilled liis engagements to Maurice ; and, in reward for liis merit in having
deserted the protestant cause, and having contributed with such success to-
wards the dissolution of the Smalkaldic league, he gave him possession of
that city, together with all the other towns in the electorate. It was not
without reluctance, however, that he made such a sacrifice ; the extraordinary
success of his arms had begun to operate in its u^ual manner upon his am-
bitious mind, suggesting new and vast projects for the aggrandizement of his
family, towards the accomplishment of which the retaining of Saxony would
have been of the utmost consequence. But as this scheme was not then ripe
for execution, he durst not yet venture to disclose it ; nor would it have
been either safe or prudent to offend Maurice, at that juncture, by such a
manifest violation of all the promises, which had seduced him to abandon his
natural allies.

The landgrave, Maurice's father-in-law, was still in arms : and, though now
left alone to maintain the protestant cause, was neither a feeble nor con-
temptible enemy. His dominions were of considerable extent ; his subjects
animated with zeal for the reformation ; and if he could have held the im-
perialists at bay for a short time, he had much to hope from a party whose
strength was still unbroken, whose union as well as vigour might return, and

which had reason to depend, with certainty, on being effectually supported by
the king of Erance. The landgrave thought not of anything so bold or ad-
ventuvous ; but being seized with the same consternation which had taken
possession of his associates, he was intent only on the means of procuring
favourable terms from the emperor, whom he viewed as a conqueror to whose
will there was a necessity of submitting. Maurice encouraged tins tame and
pacific spirit, by magnifying, on the one hand, the emperor's power ; by boast-
mg, on the other, of his own interest with his victorious ally ; and by repre-
senting the advantageous conditions which he could not fail of obtaining by
his intercession for a friend, whom he was so solicitous to save. Sometimes
the landgrave was induced to place such unbounded confidence in his pro-
mises, that he was impatient to bring matters to a final accommodation. On
other occasions, the emperor's exorbitant ambition, restrained neither by the
scruples of decency, nor the maxims of justice, together with the recent and.
shocking proof which he had given of this in his treatment of the elector of
Saxony, came so full into his thoughts, and made such a lively impression on
them, that he broke off abruptly the negotiations which he had begun ; seem-
ing to be convinced that it was more prudent to depend for safety on his own
arms, than to confide in Charles's generosity. But this bold resolution, which
despair had suggested to an impatient spirit, fretted by disappointments, was
not of long continuance. Upon a more deliberate survey of the enemy's
power, as well as his own weakness, his doubts and fears returned upon him,

" Sleid. p. 427. Thuaa. i. 142. Du Mont, Corps Diplom. iv pp. 11, 332.

■

BOOK IX.] THE LAJ^DGBAVE SUSWCIOUS OF CHARLES. 377

and together with them the spirit of negotiating, and the desire of accom-
modation.

Maurice, and the elector of Brandenburg, acted as mediators between him
and tlie emperor ; and after all that the former had vaunted of his influence,
the conditions prescribed to the landgrave were extremely rigorous. The
articles with regard to his renouncing the league of Smalkalde, acknowledging
the emperor's authority, and submitting to the decrees of the imperial cham-
ber, were the same which had been imposed on the elector of Saxony. Be-
sides these he was required to surrender his person and territories to the em-
peror ; to implore for pardon on his knees ; to pay a hundred and fifty thousand
crowns towards defraying the expenses of the war ; to demolish the fortifi-
cations of aU the towns in his dominions except one; to oblige the garrison
which he placed in it to take an oath of fidelity to the emperor ; to allow a
free passage through his territories to the imperial troops as often as it shall
be demanded ; to deliver up all his artillery and ammunition to the emperor ;
to set at liberty, without ransom, Henry of Brunswick, together with the
other prisoners whom he had taken during the war; and neither to take arms
himself, nor to permit any of his subjects to serve against the emperor or his
allies for the future."

The landgrave ratified these articles, though with the utmost reluctance,
as they contained no stipulation with regard to the mamier in which he was
to be treated, and left hun entirely at the emperor's mercy. Necessity, how-
ever, compelled him to give his assent to them. Charles, who had assumed
the haughty and imperious tone of a conqueror ever since the reduction of
Saxony, insisted on unconditional submission, and would permit nothing to
be added to the terms which he had prescribed, that could m any degree Hmit
the fulness of his power, or restrain him from behaving as he saw meet to-
wards a prince whom he regarded as absolutely at his disposal. But though
he would not vouchsafe to negotiate with the landgrave, on such a footing
of equality, as to suffer anv article to be inserted amon^ those which he had
dictated to him, that could be considered as a formal stipulation for the
security and freedom of his person ; he, or his ministers in his name, gave
the elector of Brandenburg and Maurice such full satisfaction w'ith regard
to this point, that they assured the landgrave that Charles would behave to
him in the same way as he had done to the duke of Wurtemberg, and would
allow him, whenever he had made his submission, to return to his own terri-
tories. Upon finding the landgrave to be still possessed with his former sus-
picions of the emperor's intentions, and unwilling to trust verbal or ambiguoua
declarations, in a matter of such essential concern as his own liberty, they
sent him a bond, signed by them both, containing the most solemn obliga-
tions, that if anv violence whatsoever was offered to his person, during his
interview with the emperor, they would instantly surrender themselves to his
sons, and remain in their hands to be treated by them in the same manner as
the emperor should treat him.'*

This, together with the indispensable obligation of performing what was
contained m the articles, of which he had accepted, removed his doubts and
icruples, or made it necessary to get over them. He repaired, for that pur-
pose, to the imperial camp at Hall in Saxony, where a circumstance occurred
whicli revived his suspicions, and increased liis fears. Just as he was about
to enter the chamber of presence, in order to make his public submission to
the emperor, a copy of the articles which he had approved of was put into
his hands, in order that he might ratify them anew. Upon perusing them,
he perceived that the imperial ministers had added two new articles ; one

" Sleid. p. 430. Tliujin. lib. iv. p. 146. »2 Du Mont, Corivs Diplom, iv. pp. 11, 336.

378 THE landgrave's nUMILIATING SUBMISSION. [BOOK IX.

importing that if any dispute should arise concerning the meaning of the
former conditions, the emperor should have the right of putting what inter-
pretation upon them he thought most reasonable ; the other, that the land-
frave was bound to submit implicitly to the decisions of the council of Trent,
his unworthy artifice, calculated to surprise him into an approbation of ar-
ticles to wliich he had not the most distant idea of assenting, by proposing
them to him at a time when his mind was engrossed and disquieted with the
thoughts of that humiliating ceremony which he had to perform, filled the
landgraye with indignation, and made him break out into all those violent
expressions of rage to which his temper was prone. With some difficulty
the elector of Brandenburg and Maurice prevailed at length on the emperor^s
ministers to drop the former article as unjust, and to explain the latter in
such a manner, that he could agree to it without openly renouncing the pro-
testant religion.

This obstacle being surmounted, the landgrave was impatient to finish a
ceremony which, how mortifying soever, had been declared necessary towards
his obtaining pardon. The emperor was seated on a magnificent tlirone,
with all the ensigns of his dignity, surrounded by a numerous train of the
princes of the empire, among whom was Hemy of Brunswick, lately the land-

f rave's prisoner, and now, by a sudden reverse of fortune, a spectator of his
umiliation. The landgrave was introduced with great solemnity, and, ad-
vancing towards the throne, fell upon his knees. His chancellor, who walked
behind him, immediately read, by his master's command, a paper which con-
tained an humble confession of the crime whereof he had been guilty ; an
acknowledgment that he had merited on that account the most severe punish-
ment ; an absolute resignation of himself and his dominions, to be disposed
of at the emperor's pleasure ; a submissive petition for pardon, his hopes of
which were founded entirely on the emperor's clemency ; and it concluded
with promises of behaving, for the future, like a subject whose principles of
loyalty and obedience would be confirmed, and would even derive new force,
from the sentiments of gratitude which must hereafter fill and animate his
heart. While the chancellor was reading this abject declaration, the eyes of
all the spectators were fixed on the mifortunate landgrave. Few could behold
a prince, so powerful as well as high-spiiited, suing for mercy in the postui'e
of a suppliant, without being touched with commiseration, and perceiving
serious reflections arise in their minds upon the instability and emptiness of
human grandeur. The emperor viewed the whole transaction with a haughty,
unfeeling composure, and, preserving a profound silence himself, made a sign
to one of his secretaries to read his answer ; the tenor of which was, that,
though he might have justly inflicted on him the grievous punishment which
his crimes deserved, yet, prompted by his own generosity, moved by the
solicitations of several princes in behalf of the landgrave, and influenced by
iis penitential acknowledgments, he would not deal with him according to
the rigour of justice, and would subject him to no penalty that was not
specified in the articles which he had already subscribed. The moment the
secretary had finished, Charles turned away abruptly, without deigning to
give the unhappy suppliant any sign of compassion or reconcilement. He did
not even desire him to rise from liis knees, which the landgrave having ven-
tured to do unbidden, advanced towards the emperor with an intention to
kiss his hand, flattering himself that his gudt being now fully expiated, he
might presume to take that Kberty. But the elector of Brandenburg, per-
ceiving that this familiarity would be offensive to the emperor, interposed,
and desired the landgrave to go along with him and Maurice to the duke of
Alva's apartments in the castle.
He was received and entertained by that nobleman with the respect and

IKK-.K IX.] HE IS DZTiJNKD AS A PRISONER. 379

courtesy due to such a guest ; but after supper, while lie was engaged in play,
the duke took the elector and Maurice aside, and communicated to them
the emperor's orders, that the landgrave must remain a prisoner in that
place, under the custody of a Spanish guard. As they had not hitherto enter-
tained the most distant suspicion of the emperor's sincerity or rectitude of
inteution, their surprise was excessive, and their indignation not inferior
to it, ou discovering ho^v greatly they had been deceived themselves, and
how infamously abused, in iiaviug been made the instruments of deceiving
and ruining their friend. They had recourse to complaints, to arguments,
and to entreatieSj in order to save themselves from that disgrace, and to ex-
tricate him out ot the wretched situation -iri« -Pteloh L.e had been betraved by
too great confidence in them. But the duke of Alva remained inflexible, and
pleaded the necessity of executing the emperor's commands. By this time
it grew late, and the landgrave, who knew nothing of what had passed, nor
dreaded the snare in %yhicTi he was entangled, prepared for departing, when
the fatal orders were intimated to him. He was struck dumb at first witli
astonishment ; but, after being silent for a few moments, he broke out into
aU the violent expressions which horror at injustice, accompanied with fraud,
naturally suggests. He complained, he expostulated, he exclaimed; some-
times inveighing against the emperor's artifices as unworthy of a great and
generous prince ; sometimes censuring the credulity of his friends in trusting
to Charles's insidious promises ; sometimes charging them vrith meanness in
stooping to lend their assistance towards the execution of such a perfidious
and dishonourable scheme ; and, in the end, he required them to remember
their engagements to his children, and instantly to fulfil them. They, after
giving way for a little to the torrent of his passion, solemnly asserted their
own innocence and upright intention in the whole transaction, and en-
couraged him to hope, that, as soon as they saw the emperor, they would ob-
tain redress of an injury which affected their own honour no less than it did
his liberty. At the same time, in order to soothe his rage and impatience,
Maurice remained with liim during the night, in the apartment where he was
confined. '^

Next morning the elector and Maurice applied jointly to the emperor, re-
presenting the infamy to which they would be exposed throughout Germany,
if the landgrave were detained in custody ; that they would not have advised,
nor would he himself have consented to an interview, if they had expected
that the loss of his liberty were to be tlie consequence of his submission ;
that they were bound to procure his release, havmg plighted their faith to
that effect, and engaged their o^vn persons as sureties for his. Charles
listened to their earnest remonstrances with the utmost coolness. As he
now stood no longer in need of their services, they had the mortification to
find that their foi-mer obsequiousness was forgotten, and little regard paid to
their intercession. He was ignorant, he told them, of their particiilar or
private transactions with the landgrave, nor was his conduct to be regulated
Dy any engagements into which they had thought fit to enter ; though he
knew well what he liimself had promised, which was not that the landgrave
shoidd be exempt from all restramt, but that he should not be kept a prisoner
during life.'* Having said tliis with a peremptory and decisive tone, he put an

" Sleid. p. 443. Thuan. lib. iv. p. 147. Stmv. Corp. Hist. Germ. ii. 1052.

" According to several historians of great name, the emperor, in his treaty with the
landgi-ave, stipulated that he would not detain him in any prison. But in executing
the deed, which was written in the German tongue, the imperial ministers fraudulently
substituted the word ewiger, instead of e»«u;€r, and thus the treaty, in place of a promise
that he should not be detaioci in aiy prison, contained only an engagement thai be

350 THE empekoe's exactions. [book rx.

end to the conference ; and they, seeing no probability at that time of making
any impression upon the emperor, who seemed to have taken this resolution
deliberately, and to be obstinately bent on adhering to it, were obliged to ac-
quaint the unfortunate prisoner with the success of their endeavours in his
behalf. The disappointment threw him into a new and more violent transport
of rage, so that, to prevent his proceeding to some desperate extremity, the
elector and Maurice promised that they would not quit the emperor until, by
the frequency and fervour of their intercessions, they had extorted his consent
to set him free. They accordingly renewed their solicitations a few days
afterwards, but found Charles more haughty and intractable than before ; and
were warned that if they touched again upon a subject so disagreeable, and
with regard to which he had determined to hear nothing further, he would
instantly give orders to convey the prisoner into Spain. Mraid of hurting the
landgrave by an officious or ill-timed zeal to serve him, they not only desisted,
but left the court ; and as they did not choose to meet the first sallies of the
landgrave's rage upon his learning the cause of their departure, they informed
him of it by a letter, wherein they exhorted him to fulfil all that he haa
promised to the emperor as the most certain means of procuring a speedy
release.

Whatever violent emotions their abandoning his cause in this maimer
occasioned, the landgrave's impatience to recover his liberty made him
follow their advice. He paid the sum which had been imposed on him,
ordered his fortresses to be razed, and renounced all alliances which could

five offence. This prompt compliance with the will of the conqueror pro-
uced no effect. He was still guarded with the same vigilant severity ; and
being carried about, together with the degraded elector of Saxony, wherever
the emperor went, their disgrace and his triumph were each day renewed.
The fortitude, as well as equanimity, with which the elector bore these
repeated insults, were not more remarkable than the landgrave's fretfuluess
and impatience. His active, unpetuous mind could ill brook restraint ; and
reflection upon the shameful artihces by which he had been decoyed into that
situation, as well as indignation at the injustice with which he was still de-
tained in it, drove him often to the wildest excesses of passion.

The people of the different cities, to whom Charles thus wantonly exposed
those illustrious prisoners as a public spectacle, were sensibly touched with
such an insult offered to the Germanic body, and murmured loudly at this in-
decent treatment of two of its greatest princes. They had soon other causes
of complaint, and such as affected them more nearly. Charles proceeded to
add oppression to insult, and, arrogating to himself all the rights of a con-
queror, exercised them with the utmost rigour. He ordered his troops to
seize the artillery and military stores belonging to such as had been members
of the Smalkaldic league, and having collected upwards of five hundred
pieces of cannon, a great number in that age, he sent part of them into the
Low Countries, part into Italy, and part into Spain, in order to spread by
this means the fame of his success, and that they might serve as monii-

should not be detained in perpetual imprisonment. But authors, eminent for historical
knowledge and critical accuracy, have called in question the truth of this common story.
The silence of Sleidan with regard to it, as well as its not being mentioned in the various
memorials which he has published concerning the landgrave's imprisonment, greatly favour
this opinion. But as several books which contain the iniormation necessary towards dis-
cussing this point with accuracy are written in the German language, which I do not
understand, 1 cannot pretend to inquire into this matter with the same precision where-
with I have endeavoured to settle some other controverted facts which have occurred
in the course of this history. See Struv. Corp. 1052. Alosheim's Eccles. Hist. vol. iL
pp. 161, 162. Engl, edition.

Boox ix.l Ferdinand's encroachments. 38i

ments of his liaving subdued a nation hitherto deemed invincible. He then
levied, by liis sole authorit^v, large sums of money, as well upon those who
had served him with fidelity during the war, as upon such as had been in
wins auainst him ; upon the former, as their contingent towards a war which,
kVing Dcen undertaken, as he pretended, for the common benefit, oug-ht to be
ied on at the common charge; upon the latter, as a fine byway of punish-
nt for their rebellion. By these exactions he amassed above one million
himdred thousand crowns, a sum which appeared prodigious in the six-
nth century. But so general was the consternation which had seized the
rmans upon his rapid success, and such their dread of his victorious
lOps, that all implicitly obeyed his commands ; though, at the same time,
-„ese extraordmar)' stretches of power greatly alarmed a people jealous of
their privileges, and habituated, during several ages, to consider the imperial
authority as neither extensive nor formidable. This discontent and resent-
ment, how industriously soever they concealed them, became universal ; and
the more these passions were restrained and kept down for the present, the
more likely were they to burst out soon with additional violence.

While Charles gave law to the Germans like a conquered people, Ferdinand
treated his subjects in Bohemia with still greater rigour. That kingdom pos-
sessed privileges and immunities as extensive as those of any nation in which
the feudal institutions were established. The prerogative of their kings was
extremely limited, and the cro^yn itself elective. Ferdinand, when raised to
the throne, had confirmed their liberties with every solemnity prescribed by
their excessive solicitude for the security of a constitution of government to
which they were extremely attached. He soon began, however, to be wear>'
of a jurisdiction so much circumscribed, and to despise a sceptre which he
could not transmit to his posterity; and, notwithstanding all his former en-
gagements, he attempted to overturn the constitution from its foundations ;
that, instead of an elective kingdom, he might render it hereditary. But the
Bohemians were too high-spirited tamely to relinouish privileges which they
had long emoyed. At the same time, manj; of tnem having embraced the
doctrines of the reformers, the seeds of which John Huss and Jerome of
Pi'ague had planted in their country about the beginning of the preceding
cxjntury, the desire of acquiring religious liberty mingled itself with their
zeal for their civil rights ; and these two kindred passions heightening, as
usual, each other's force, precipitated them immemately into violent mea-
sui'cs. They had not only refused to serve their sovereign against the con-

Iierates of Smalkalde, but having entered into a close alliance with the
jctor of Saxony, they had bound themselves by a solemn association, to
fend their ancient constitution; and to persist until they should obtain
ch additional privileges as they thought necessary towards perfecting the
esent model of their government, or rendering it more permanent. They
cliose Caspar Phlug, a nobleman of distinction, to be their general, and raisecl
ail army of thirty tliousand men to enforce their petitions. But either from
c weakness of their leader, or from the dissensions in a great unwieldy body,
hich, having united hastily, was not thoroughly compacted, or from some
' :v unknot n cause, the subsequent operations of the Bohemians bore no
portion to tiie zeal and ardour with which they took their first resolutions,
y sufiercd themselves to be amused so long Vith negotiations and over-
res of dift'erent kinds, that before they could enter Saxony, the battle of
[uhlberg was fought, the elector deprived of his dignity and* territories, the
idgrave confined to close custody, and the league of Smalkalde entirely dis-
)atcd. The same dread of the emperor's power which had seized the rest
the Germans reached them. As soon as iheir sovereign approached with
body of imperial troops, they instantly dispersed, thinking of nothing but

882 DIET OF AUGSBUEG. [BOOK. IX.

how to atone for their past guilt, and to acquire some hope of forgiveness by
a prompt submission. But Eeminand, who entered his dominions full of that
implacable resentment which iuflames monarch s whose authority has been
despised, was not to be molliiied by the late repentance and involuntary
return of rebellious subjects to their duty. He even heard, unmoved, the
entreaties and tears of the citizens of Prague, who appeared before him in
the posture of suppliants, and implored for mercy. The sentence which he
pronounced against them was rigorous 'to extremity ; he abolished many of
their privileges, he abridged others, and new-modelled the constitution ac-
cording to his pleasure. He condemned to death many of those who had been
most active in forming the late association against him, and punished a still
greater number with confiscation of their goods, or perpetual banishment.
He obliged all his subjects, of every condition, to give up their arms, to be
deposited in forts where he planted garrisons ; and, after disarming his people,
he loaded them with new and exorbitant taxes. Thus, by an ill-conducted and
unsuccessful effort to extend their privileges, the Bohemians not only enlarged
the sphere of the royal prerogative, when they intended to have circumscribed
it, but they almost anniliilated those liberties which they aimed at establishing
on a broader and more secure foundation.*^

The emperor, having now humbled, and, as he imagined, subdued the inde-
pendent and stubborn spirit of the Germans by the terror of arms and the
rigour of punishment, held a diet at Augsburg, in order to compose finally
the controversies with regard to reHgion, which had so long disturbed the
empire. He durst not, however, trust the determination of a matter so inte-
resting to the free suffrage of the Germans, broken as their minds now were
to subjection. He entered the city at the head of his Spanish troops, and
assigned them quarters there. The rest of his soldiers he cantoned in the ad-
jacent villages ; so that the members of the diet, while they carried on their
deliberations, were surrounded by the same army which had overcome their
countrymen. Immediately after his public entry, Charles gave a proof of the
violence with which he intended to proceed. He took possession hj force of
the cathedral, together with one of the principal churches ; and his priests
having, by various ceremonies, purified them Irom the pollution with which
they supposed the unhallowed ministrations of the protestants to have defiled
them, they re-established with great pomp the rites of the Romish worship.*"
The concourse of members to this diet was extraordinary ; the importance
of the affairs concerning which it was to deliberate, added to the fear of
giving offence to the emperor by an absence whicli lay open to miscon-
struction, brought together almost all the princes, nobles, and representatives
of cities, who had a right to sit in that assembly. The emperor, in the speech
with which he opened the meeting, called their attention immediately to that
point, which seemed chiefly to merit it. Having mentioned the fatal effects
of the religious dissensions which had arisen in Germany, and taken notice
of his own unwearied endeavours to procure a general council, which alone
could provide a remedy adequate to those evils, he exhorted them to recog-
nise its authority, and to acquiesce in the decisions of an assembly to which
they had originally appealed, as having the sole right of judgment in the case.
But the council, to which Charles wished them to refer aU. their contro-
versies, had, by this time, undergone a violent change. The fear and jealousy
with which the emperor's first success against the confederates of Smalkalde
had inspired the pope, continued to increase. Not satisfied with attempting
to retard the progress of the imperial arms, by the sudden recal of his troops,

» Sleid. 408, 419, 434, Tbuan. Hb. iv. 129, 150. Struv. Corp. u.
« Sleid. 435, 437.

BOOK IX.] SCHISM IN TEE COUNCIL OP TEEST. 383

Paul began to consider the emperor as an enemv, the weight of whose power
he must soon feelj and against whom he could not be too hasty in taking
precautions. He foresaw that the immediate efl'ect of the emperor's acquiring
absolute power in Germany, would be to render him entirely master of all the
decisions of the council, if it should continue to meet in Trent. It was dan-
gerous to allow a monarch, so ambitious, to get the command of this for-
midable engine, which he might employ at pleasure to limit or to overturn
the papal authority. As the only method of preventing this, he deteiinined
to remove the council to some city more immediately under his own juris-
diction, and at a greater distance from the terror of the emperor's arms, or
the reach of his influence. An incident fortunately occurred, which gave this
measure the ai)pearauce of being necessary. One or two of the fathers of the
council, together with- some of their domestics, happening to die suddenly, the
physicians, deceived by the symptoms, or suborned by the pope's legates, pro-
nounced the distemper to be infectious and pestilential. Some of the prelates,
struck with a panic, retired ; others were impatient to be gone ; and, after a
short consultation, the council was translated to Bologna, a city subject to the
pope. AU the bishops in the imperial interest warmly opposed this resolution.
as taken without necessity, and founded on false or frivolous pretexts. All
the Spanish prelates and most of the Neapolitan, by the emperor's express
command, remained at Trent ; the rest, to the number of thirty-four, accom-
panring the legates to Bologna. Thus a schism commenced in that veiy as-
rit)ly, which had been called to heal the divisions of Christendom; the
hers of Bologna inveighed against those who stayed at Trent, as contu-
icious and regardless of the pope's authority; while the others accused
them of being so far intimidated by the fears of imaginary danger, as to re-
move to a place where their consultations could prove of no service towards
re-establishing peace and order in Germany.*'

The emperor, at the same time, employed aU his interest to procure the
return of the council to Trent. But Paul, who highly applauded nis own sa-
gacity in having taken a step which put it out of Charles's power to acquire
the direction of that assembly, paid no regard to a request, the object of which
was so extremely obvious. The summer was consumed in fruitless negotia-
tions with respect to this point, the importunity of the one and obstinacy of
the other daily increasing. At last an event happened which widened the
breach irreparably, and rendered the pope utterly averse fi-om listening to
any proposal that came from the emperor. Charles, as has been already ob-
served, had so violently exasperated Peter Lewis Parnese, the pope's son, by
refusing to grant him the investiture of Parma and Placentia, that he had
watched ever since that time with all the vigilance of resentment for an oppor-
tunity of revenging that injury. He had endeavoured to precipitate the pope
into open hostilities agaiust the emperor, and had earnestly solicited the king
of Prance to invade Italy, His hatred and resentment extended to all those
whom he knew that the emperor favoured ; he did every ill office in his power
to Gonzaga, governor of Milan, and had encouraged Piesco in his attempt
upon the life of Andrew Doria, because both Gonzaga and Doria possessed
a great degree of the emperor's esteem and confidence. His malevolence and
secret intrigues were not imkn9wn to the emperor, who could not be more
desirous to take vengeance on him, than Gonzaga and Doria were to be em-
ploved as his instruments in inflicting it. Parnese, by the nrofiigacy of his life,
and by enormities of every kind, equal to those committed by the worst tyrants
who have disgraced human nature, had rendered liimself so odious, that it
was thought any violence whatever might be lawfully attempted agaiust him

'• F. Paul, 248, &c

884 PETER FARNESE, THE POPE's SON, ASSASSINATED. [BOOK JX

Gronzaga and Doria soon found, among his own subjects, persons who were
eager, and even deemed it meritorious, to lend their hands m such a service.
As Tarnese, animated with the jealousy wliich usually possesses petty sove-
reigns, had employed all the cruelty and fraud, whereby they endeavour to
supply their defect of power, in order to humble and extirpate the nobility
subject to his government, five noblemen of the greatest distinction in Pla-
centia combined to avenge the injuries which they themselves had suffered,
as well as those which he had offered to their order. Thev formed their plan
in conjunction with Gonzaga ; but it remains uncertain whether he originally
suggested the scheme to them, or only approved of what they proposed, and
co-operated in carrying it on. ^ They concerted all the previous steps with
such foresight, conducted their intrigues with such secrecy, and displayed such
courage in the execution of their design, that it may be ranked among the most
audacious deeds of that nature mentioned in history. One body of the con-
spirators surprised, at mid-day, the gates of the citadel of Placentia where
Earnese resided, overpowered his guards, and murdered him. Another party
of them made themselves masters of the town, and called upon their fellow-
citizens to take arms, in order to recover their liberty. The multitude ran
towards the citadel, from which three great guns, a signal concerted with
Gonzaga, had been fired ; and before they could guess the cause or the authors
of the tumult, they saw the lifeless body of the tyrant hanging by the heels
from one of the windows of the citadel. But so universally detestable had
he become, that not one expressed any sentiment of concern at such a sad re-
verse of fortune, or discovered the least indignation at this ignominious treat-
ment of a sovereign prince. The exultation at the success of the conspiracy
was general, and all applauded the actors in it, as the deliverers of their
country. The body was tumbled into the ditch that surrounded the citadel,
and exposed to the insults of the rabble : the rest of the citizens returned to
their usual occupations, as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

Before next morning, a body of troops arriving from the frontiers of the Mi-
lanese, where they had been posted in expectation of the event, took posses-
sion of the city in the emperor's name, and reinstated the inhabitants in the
possession of their ancient privileges. Parma, which the imperialists at-
tempted likewise to surprise, was saved by the vigilance and fidelity of the
officers whom Pamese had entrusted with the command of the garrison. The
death of a son whom, notwithstanding his infamous vices, Paul loved with
an excess of parental tenderness, overwhelmed him with the deepest afiliction ;
and the loss of a city of such consequence as Placentia, greatly embittered
his sorrow. He accused Gonzaga, in open consistory, of having committed a
cruel murder, in order to prepare the way for an unjust usurpation, and im-
mediately demanded of the emperor satisfaction for Doth : for the former, by
the punishment of Gonzaga: for the latter, by the restitution of Placentia to
his grandson Octavio, its rightful owner. But Charles, who, rather than quit
a prize of such value, was willing, not only to expose himself to the imputa-
tion of being accessory to the crime which had given an opportunity of seizing
it, but to bear the infamy of defrauding his own son-in-law of the inheritance
which belonged to him, eluded all his solicitations, and determined to keep
possession of the city, together with its territories.'*

This resolution, flowing from an ambition so rapacious, as to be restrained
by no consideration either of decency or justice, transported the pope so far
beyond his usual moderation and pradence, that he was eager to take arms
against the emperor, in order to be avenged, on the murderers of his son, and

" F. Paul, 257. Pallavic. 41, 42. Thuan. iv. 156. Mem. de Ribier, 59. 67 Natalis
Comitis Hist. lib. ill. p. 64.

BOOlC IX.] CHAIliES AUsD TflE DIET 6F ATJGSiTJRfi. 883

to recover the inheritance wrested from his family. Conscious, h9weTer, o!
his own inability to contend with such an enemy, he warmly solicited the
French king and the repubhc of Venice to jom in an offensive league
against Charles. But Henry was intent at that time on other objects.
His ancient allies the Scots having been defeated by the English, in one of
the greatest battles ever fought between these two rival nations, he was about
to send a numerous body of veteran troops into that country, as well to pre-
serve it from being conquered, as to gain the acquisition of a new kingdom
to the French monarchy, by maiTying his son, the dauphin, to the young
queen of Scotland. An undertakmg accompanied with such manifest ad-
vantages, the success of which appeared to be so certain, was not to be re-
linquished for the remote prospect of benefit from an alliance depending
upon the precarious life of a pope of fourscore, who had nothing at heart but
the gratification of his o\vn private resentment. Listead, therefore, of rush-
ing lieadlon^ into the alliance proposed, Henry amused the pope with such
general prolessions and promise_s, as might keep him from any thoughts of
endeavouring to accommodate his differences with the emperor ; but at the
same time he avoided any such engagement as might occasion an immediate
rupture with Charles, or precipitate liim into a war for which he was not pre-

Eared. The yenetians, though much alanned at seeing Placentia in the
ands of the imperialists, imitated the wary conduct of the Trench king, as
it nearly resembled the spirit which usually regulated their own conduct.^*

But, though the pope found that it was not in his power to kindle imme-
diately the liames of war, he did not forget the injuries which he was obliged
for the present to endure ; resentment settled deeper in his mind, and became
more rancorous in proportion as he felt the difficulty of gratifying it. It was
while these sentiments of enmity were in full force, and the desire of ven-
geance at its height, that the diet of Augsburg, by the emperor's command,
petitioned the pope, in the name of the whole Germanic body, to enjoin the
prelates who had retired to Bologna to return again to Trent, and to renew
their deliberations in that place. Charles had been at great pains in bringing
the members to join in this request. Having observed a considerable varietv
of sentiments amon^ the protestants with respect to the submission whicn
he had required to the decrees of the council, some of them hemg altogether
intractable, while others were ready to acknowledge its right of jurisdiction
upon certain conditions, he employed all his address in order to gain ot to
divide them. He thi-eatened and overawed the elector palatine, a weak prince,
and afraid that the emperor might inflict on him the punishment to which he
had made himself liable by the assistance that he bad given to the confe-
derates of Smalkalde. The hope of procuring liberty for the landgrave,
together with the fonnal confirmation of his own electoral dignity, overcame
Maurice's scruples, or prevented him from opposing what he kncAV would be
agreeable to the emperor. The elector of Brandenburg, less influenced by
religious zeal than any prince of that age, was easily induced to imitate their
example, in assenting to all that the emperor required. The deputies of the
cities remained still to be brought over. They were more tenacious of their
principles ; and, though everythmg that could operate either on their hopes
or fears was tried, the utmost that tliey would promise was, to acknowledge
the jurisdiction of the council, if effectual pro\ision were made for securing
to the divines of all parties free access to that assembly, with entire liberty
of debate ; and if all points in controversy were decided according to Scripture
and the usage of the primitive church. But when the memorial coutain-

" M^m, de Kibier, ii. 63, 71, 78, 85, 95. Paruta, Istor.di Venez. 199, 203. Tbuan.
ir 160.

3c

886 THE POPE REJECTS THE DIET's PETITION. [BOOK IX,

XLg tliis declaration was presented to the emperor, he ventured to put in prac-
3ice a very extraordinary artifice. Without reading the paper, or taking any
notice of the conditions on which they had insisted, he seemed to take it for

f ranted that they had complied with his demand, and gave thanJis to the
eputies for their full and unreserved submission to the decrees of the council.
The deputies, though astonished at what they had heard, did not attempt to set
him right, both parties being better pleased that the matter should remain
under this state of ambiguity, than to push for an explanation, which must
have occasioned a dispute, and would have led, perhaps, to a rupture^"

Having obtained this seeming submission from the members of the diet to
the authority of the council, Charles employed that as an argument to enforce
their petition for its return to Trent. tBut the pope, from the satisfaction
which he felt in mortifying the emperor, as well as from his own aversion
to what was demanded, resolved, without hesitation, that this petition should
not be granted, though, in order to avoid the imputation of beiug in-
fluenced wholly by resentment, he had the address to throw it upon the fathers
at Bologna, to put a direct negative upon the request. With this view, he
referred to their consideration the petition of the diet, and they, ready to
confirm by their assent whatever the legates were pleased to dictate, declared
that the council could not, consistently with its dignity, return to Trent, un-
less the prelates who, by remaining there, had discovered a schismatic spirit,
would first repair to Bologna, and join their brethren ; and that, even after
their junction, the council could not renew its consultations with any prospect
of benefit to the church, if the Germans did not prove their intention of
obeying its future decrees to be sincere, by yielding immediate obedience
to those which it had akeady passed.-^

This answer was communicated to the emperor by the pope, who at the
same time exhorted him to comply with demands which appeared to be so
reasonable. But Charles was better acquainted with the duplicity of the
pope's character than to be deceived by such a gross artifice ; ne knew that
the prelates of Bologna durst utter no sentiment but what Paul inspired -,
and, therefore, overlooking them as mere tools in the hands of another, he
considered their reply as a fuU discovery of the pope's intentions. As he
could no longer hope to acquire such an ascendant in the council as to render
it subservient to his own plan, he saw it to be necessary that Paul should
not have it in his power to turn against him the authority of so venerable an
assembly. In order to prevent this, he sent two Spanish lawyers to Bo-
logna [Jan. 16, 1548], wno, in the presence of the legate, protested, that
the translation of the council to that place had been unnecessary, and founded
on false or frivolous pretexts ; that while it continued to meet there, it ought
to be deemed an unlawful and schismatical conventicle ; that all its decisions
ought, of course, to be held as nuU and invalid ; and that since the pope,
together with the corrupt ecclesiastics who depended on liim, had abandoned
the care of the church, the emperor, as its protector, would employ aU the
power which God had committed to him, in order to preserve it froni those
calamities with which it was threatened. A few days after, the imperial am-
bassador at Rome demanded an audience of the pope, and in presence of aU
the cardinals, as well as foreign ministers, protested against the proceedings
of the prelates at Bologna, in terms equally harsh and disrespectful,^'^

It was not long before Charles proceeded to carry these threats, which
greatly alarmed' both the pope and council at Bologna, into execution. He

20 F. Paul, 259. Sleid. 440. Tlman. torn. ii. 155.

SI F, Paul, p. 250. Pailavic. ii. 49.

*^ F, Paul, p. 264. PaUavic. p. 51. Sleid. p. 446. Goldasti Conslit. Laperial L 661.

BOOK IX.] THE EMPEROR PBEPARES A SYSTEM OP DOCTRINE, 387

let the diet know the ill success of his endeavours to procure a favourable
answer to their petition, and that the pope, equally regardless of their entrea-
ties, and of his services to the church, had refused to gratify thein by allowing
the council to meet again at Trent ; that though all hope of holding this
assembly in a place where they might look for freedom of debate and judgment
was not to be ^ven up, the prospect of it was, at present, distant and un-
certain; that, m the meantnne, Germany was torn in pieces by religious
dissensions, the purity of the faith corrupted, and the minds of the people
disquieted with a multiplicity of new opinions and controversies, formerly
unknown among Christians ; that, moved by the duty which he owed to them
as their sovereign, and to the church as its protector, he had employed
some divines of known abilities and learning, to prepare a system of doc-
triue. to which all should conform, until a council, such as they wished for,
coula be convocated. This system was compiled by Phlu^, Heldiug, and
Agricola, of whom the two former were dignitaries in the Jtlomish church,
but remarkable for their pacific and healing spirit • the last was a protestant
divine, suspected, not without reason, of having been gained, by bribes and
promises, to betray or mislead his party on this occasion. The articles pre-
sented to the diet at Ratisbon, in the year one thousand five hundred and
forty-one, in order to reconcile the contending parties, served as a model for
the present work. But as the emperor's situation was much changed since
that time, and he found it no longer necessary to manage the protestants with
the same delicacy as at that juncture, the concessions in their favour were
not now so numerous, nor did they extend to points of so much consequence.
The treatise contained a complete system of theology, conformable, in almost
every article, to the tenets ot the Romish church, though expressed, for the
most part, in the softest words, or in scriptural phrases, or in terms of
studied ambiguitv. Every doctrine, however, peculiar to popery was re-
tained, and the observation of all the rites which the protestants condemned
as inventions of men introduced into the worship of Grod, was enjoined. With
regard to two points only, some relaxation in the rigour of opinion, as well
as some latitude in practice, were admitted. Such ecclesiastics as had mar-
ried, and would not put away their wives, were allowed, nevertheless, to per-
form aU the functions of their sacred office ; and those provinces which had
been accustomed to partake of the cup, as well as of the bread, in the sacra-
ment of the Lord's supper, were still indulged in the privilege of receiving
both. Even these were declared to be concessions for the sake of peace,
and granted only for a season, in compliance with the weakness or prejudices
of their countrymen.^a

This system of doctrine, known afterwards by the name of the Interim,
because it contained temporary regulations, which were to continue no longer
in force than until a free general council could be held, the emperor presented
to the diet with a pompous declaration of his suicere intention to re-establish
tranquillity and order in the church, as well as of his hopes that their adopting
these regulations would contribute greatly to bring about that desirable
event. It was read in presence of the diet according to form. As soon as it
was finished, the archbishop of Mentz, president of the electoral college, rose
up hastily, and having thanked the emperor for his unwearied and pious en-
deavours in order to restore peace to the church, he, in the name of the diet,
signified their approbation of the system of doctrine which had been read,
together with their resolution of conforming to it in every particular. The
whole assembly was amazed at a declaration so unprecedented and imconstitu-

^ 2' F. Paul, p. 270. Palkvic. il CO. Sleid. pp. 453, 457. Struv. Corp. p. 1054.
joldast. J^nstit. Imper. i. 518.

2c2

388 OPPOSITION TO "tile interim" [book IX.

tional, as weQ. as at the elector's presumption, in pretending to deliver the
sense of the diet upon a point which had not hitlierto been the subject of
consultation or debate ; but not one member had the courage to contradict
what the elector had said, some being overawed by fear, others remaiiung
silent through complaisance. The emperor held the archbishop's declaration
to be a full constitutional ratification of the Interim, and prepared to enforce
the observance of it as a decree of the empire.^*

During this diet, the wife and cliildren of the landgrave, warmly seconded
by Maurice of Saxony, endeavoured to interest the members in behalf of that
unhappy prince, who still languished in confinement. But Charles, who did
not choose to be brought under the necessity of rejecting any request that
came from such a respectable body, in order to prevent their representations,
laid before the diet an account of his transactions with the landgrave, together
with the motives which had at first induced him to detain that i)rince in
custody, and which rendered it prudent, as he alleged, to keep him still under
restraint. It was no easy matter to give any good reason for an action in-
capable of being justified • but he thought the most frivolous pretexts might
be produced in an assembly, the members of which were willing to be deceives,
and afraid of nothing so much as of discovering that they saw his conduct m
its true colours. His account of his own conduct was accordingly admitted
to be fuHy satisfactory, and, after some feeble entreaties that he would extend
his clemency to his unfortunate prisoner, the landgrave's concerns were no
more mentioned.^*

_ In order to counterbalance the unfavourable impression which this inflexible
rigour might make, Charles, as a proof that his gratitude was no less per-
manent and unchangeable than his resentment, invested Maurice in the
electoral dignity, with all the legal formalities. The ceremony was performed
with extraordinary pomp, in an open court, so near the apartment in which
the degraded elector was kept a prisoner, that he could view it from his
windows. Even this insult did not ruffle his usual tranquillity ; and, tumiag
his eyes that way. he beheld a prosperous rival receiving those ensigns of
dignity of which he had been stripped, without^ uttering one sentiment un-
becoming the fortitude that he had preserved amidst all his calamities.-*^

Immediately after the dissolution of the diet, the emperor ordered the
Interim to be published, in the German as weD as Latin language. It met
with the usual reception of conciliating schemes, when proposed to men heated
with disputation. Both parties declaimed against it with equal violence ; the
Protestants condemned it as a system containing the grossest errors of popery,
disguised with so little art, that it could impose only on the most ignorant,
or on those who, by wilfully shutting their eyes, favoured the deception;
the papists inveighed against it, as a work in which some doctrines of the
church were impiously given up, others meanly concealed, and all of them
delivered in terms calculated rather to deceive the unwary than to iiistruct
the ignorant, or to reclaim such as were enemies to the truth. While the
Lutheran divines fiercely attacked it on one hand, the general of the Do-
minicans, with no less, vehemence, impugned it on the other. But at Bome,
as soon as the contents of the Interim came to be known, the indignation of
the courtiers and ecclesiastics rose to the greatest height. They exclaimed
against the emperor's profane encroachment on the sacerdotal function, in
presuming, with the concurrence of an assembly of laymen, to define articles
of faith, and to regulate modes of worship. They compared this rash deed to

2* Sleid. p. 460. F. Paul, p. 273. Pallavic. p. 63. 25 sieid. p. 441.

« Thuau. Hist. lib. v. 176. Struv. Corp. 1054. Investitura Mauritii a Mammerano
Locembergo descripta, ap. Scardium, ii. 508.

iri.

BOOK IX.] BY PEOTESTANTS AND PAPISTS. 389

that of Uzzah. who, with an unhallowed hand, had touched the ark of God;
or to the bold attempts of those emperors who had rendered their memory-
detestable, bv endeavouring to model the Christian church according to their
pleasure. Tney even affected to find out a resemblance between the em-
peror's conduct and that of Henry VIII., and expressed their fear of his imi-
tating the example of that apostate, by usurping the title, as well as juris-
diction, belonging to the head of the church. All, therefore, contended, with
one voice, that as the foundations of ecclesiastical authority were now shaken,
and the whole fabric ready to be overturned by a new enemy, some powerful
method of defence must be provided, and a vigorous resistance must be made,
in the beginning, before he grew too formidaBle to be opposed.

The pope, whose judgment was improved by longer experience in great
transactions, as well as by a more extensive observation of human affairs,
viewed the matter with more acute discernment, and derived comfort from the
very circumstance which filled them with apprehension. He was astonished
that a prince of such superior sagacity as the emperor, should be so intoxi-
cated with a sm^le victory, as to imagine that he might give law to mankind,
and decide even m those matters, with regard to which they are most impatient
of dominion. He saw that, by joining any one of the contending parties in
Germany, Charles might have had it m his power to have oppressed the other,
but that the presumption of success had now inspired him with the vain
thought of bemg able to domineer over both. He foretold that a system
which all attacked, and none defended, could not be of long duration ; and
that, for this reason, there was no need of his interposing in order to hasten
its fall ; for as soon as the powerful hand which now upheld it was withdrawn,
it would sink of its own accord, and be forgotten for ever."

The emperor, fond of his own plan, adhered to his resolution of carrying
it into full execution. But though the elector palatine, the elector of Bran-
denburg, and Maurice, influenced by the same considerations as formerly,
seemed ready to yield implicit obedience to whatever he should enjoin, he
met not everywhere with a Hke obsequious submission. John, marquis of
Brandenburg Anspach, although he had taken part with great zeal m the
war against the confederates of Smalkalde, refused to renounce doctrines
wliich he held to be sacred ; and reminding the emperor of the repeated
promises which he had given his protestant allies, of allowing them the free
exercise of their religion, he claimed, in consequence of these, to be exempted
from receiving the Interim. Some other princes, also, ventured to mention
the same scruples, and to plead the same indulgence. But on this, as on
other trying occasions, the firmness of the elector of Saxony was most distin-
guished, and merited the highest praise. Charles, well knowing the authority
of his example with all the protestant party, laboured, with the utmost earn-
estness, to gain his approbation of the Interim, and by employing sometimes
promises of setting him at liberty, sometimes threats of treating him with
greater harslmess, attempted alternately to work upon his hopes and^ his
fears. But he was alike regardless of both. After having declared his fixed
belief in tlie doctrines of the reformation, "I cannot now," said he, "in my
old age, abandon the principles, for Avhich I early contended ; nor, in order to
procure freedom durmg a few declining years, will I betrav that good cause,
account of which I have suffered so much, and am still willing to suffer.

tter for me to enjoy, in this solitude, the esteem of virtuous men, together

th the approbation of my own conscience, than to return into the world
with the imputation and gudt of apostacy, to disgrace and embitter the re-
mainder of my days." By this magnanimous resolution, he set his country.

I

2' Sleid. p. 468. F. Paul, pp. 271, 277. Pallavic. ii. 64.

390 OPPOSITION OF THE TEIB CITIES. [BOOK IX.

men a pattern of conduct, so veiy different from that which the emperor
wished him to have exhibited to them, that it drew ui)on him fresh mai*ks of
his displeasure. The rigour of his confinement was increased ; the number
of his servants abridged ; the Lutheran clergymen, who had hithei-to been
permitted to attend him, were dismissed ; and even the books of devotion
which had been his chief consolation during a tedious imprisonment, were
taken from him.'* The landgrave of Hesse, his companion in misfortune, did
not maintain the same constancy. liis patience and fortitude were both so
much exhausted by the length of his confinement, that, willing to purchase
freedom at any price, he wrote to the emperor, offering not only to approve
of the Interim, but to yield an unreserved submission to his will in evenr
other particular. But Charles, who knew that, whatever course the land-
grave might hold, neither his example nor authority would prevail on his
children or subjects to receive the Interim, paid no regard to Ms offers.
He was kept confined as strictly as ever ; and, while he suffered the cruel
mortification of having his conduct set in contrast to that of the elector, he
derived not the smallest benefit from the mean step which exposed him to
such deserved censure.^'*

But it was in the imperial cities that Charles met with the most violent
opposition to the Interim. These small commonwealths, the citizens of which
were accustomed to liberty and independence, had embraced the doctrines of
the reformation when they were first published, with remarkable eagerness ;
the bold spirit of innovation being peculiarly suited to the genius of free go-
vernment. .Among them, the protestant teachers had made the greatest nura-
ber of proselytes. The most eminent divines of the party were settled in
them as pastors. By having the direction of the schools and other seminaries
of learning, they had trained up disciples, who were as well instructed in the
articles of their faith, as they were zealous to defend them. Such persons
were not to be guided by example, or swayed by authority ; but having been
taught to employ their O'S'^ti understanding in examining and deciding with re-
spect to the points in controversy, they thought that they were both qualified
and entitled to judge for themselves. As soon as the contents of the Interm]
were known, they, with one voice, joined in refusing to admit it. Augsburg,
Ulm, Strasburg, Constance, Bremen, Magdeburg, together with many other
towns of less note, presented remonstrances to the emperor, setting forth
the irregular and unconstitutional manner in which the Interim had been en-
acted, and beseeching him not to offer such violence to their consciences, as
to require their assent to a form of doctrine and worship, which appeared to
them repugnant to the express precepts of the divine law. But Charles
having prevailed on so many princes of the empire to approve of his new
model, was not much moved by the representations of those cities, which,
how formidable soever they might have proved, if they could have been
formed into one body, lay so remote from each other, that it was easy to op-
press them separately, before it was possible for them to unite.

In order to accomplish this, the emperor saw it to be requisite that his
measures should be vigorous, and executed with such rapidity as to allow no
time for concerting any common plan of opposition. Having laid dowm this
maxim as the rule of his proceedings, his first attempt was upon the city of
Augsburg, wliich, though overawed with the presence of the Spanish troops,
he knew to be as much dissatisfied with the Interim as any in the empire.
He prdered one body of these troops to seize the gates ; he posted the rest
in different quarters of the city ; and, assembling all the bm-gesses in the
town-haU, he, by his sole absolute authority, published a decree abolishing

« Sleid. p. 462, " itid. p. 462.

I

BOOK IX,] THE EMTEEOE DEPAllTS FOfi THE LOW COUNTEIES. 391

their present form of govemmeut, dissolvms; .all their corporations and frater-
nities, and nominating a small number of persons, in uhom he vested, for
the future, all the powers of government. Each of the persons thus chosen,
took an oath to observe the Interim. An act of power so unj^recedented as
well as arbitrary, which excluded the body of the inhabitants Irom any share
in the govei-nment of then: o\\ii community, and subiected them to men who
had no other merit than their servile devotion to the emperor's will, gave
general disgust ; but, as they durst not venture upon i-esistance, they were
obliged to submit in silence.^** From Augsburg, in which he left a gai-rison,
he proceeded to Ulm, and new-modelling its government with the same violent
hand, he seized such of their pastors as refused to subscribe the Interim, coin-
niitted them to prison, and, at his departure, caiTied them along with him in
chains.^' By this severity he not only secui-ed the reception of the Interim
in two of the most powerful cities, but gave warning to the rest what such as
continued refractory had to expect. The effect of the example was as great
as he could have vrished ; and many towns, in order to save themselves from
the like treatment, found it necessary to comply w^th what he enjoined. Tills
obedience, extorted by the rigour of authority, produced no change in the
sentiments of the Gemians, and extended no fartlier than to make them con-
form so far to what he required as was barely sufficient to screen them from
punishment. The protestant preachers accompanied those religious rites, the
observation of which the Interim prescribed, with such an explication of their
tendency, as served rather to confii-m than to remove the scruples of their
hearers with regard to them. The people, many of whom had grovm. up to
mature years since the establishment of the reformed religion, and had never
known any other form of public worship, beheld the pompous pageantry of
the popish service with contempt or horror ; and in most places the B omish
ecclesiastics who returned to tale possession of their chui'ches, could hardly
be protected from insult, or their miuistrations from interruption. Thus,
notwithstanding the apparent compliance of so many cities, the inhabitants,
being accustomed to freedom, submitted with reluctance to the power which
now oppressed them. Their understanding as well as inclination revolted
against the doctrines and ceremonies imposed on them ; and though for the
present they concealed their disgust and resentment, it was evident that these

i)assions could not always be kept under restraint, but would break out at
ast in effects proportional to their violence."

Charles, however higlily pleased with having bent the stubborn spirit of
the Germans to such general submission, departed for the Low Coimtries,
fully detemiiued to compel the cities which still stood out, to receive the
Interim. He carried his two prisoners, the elector of Saxony and landgi-aye
of Hesse, along with him, either because he durst not leave them behind him
in Germany, or because he wished to give his countrymen, the riemings, this
illustrious proof of the success of his arms and the extent of his power. Be-
fore Charles arrived at Brussels he was informed that the pope's legates at
Bologna had dismissed the council by an indefinite prorogation, and that the
prelates assembled there had returned to their respective countries. Neces-
sity had driven the pope into this measure. By the secession of those who
had voted against the translation, together with the departure of others, who
grew weary of continuing in a place where they were not suffered to proceed
to business, so few and such mconsiderable members remained, that the
pompous appellation of a general council could not, with decency, be bestowed
any longer upon them. Paul had no choice but to dissolve an assembly which
was become the object of contempt, and exhibited to aU Christendom a most

30 Sleid. p. 469. 3> Ibid. p. 472. 3-' Mem. do Eibier, ii. 218. Sleid. p. 491.

893 StTBMlSSION OF STRASBURG AND CONSTANCE. [bOOK IX*

glaring proof of the impotence of the Romish see. But unavoidable as tne
measure was, it lay open to be unfavourably interpreted, and had the appear-
ance of withdrawing the remedy, at the very time when those for whose re-
covery it was provided, were prevailed on to acknowledge its virtue, and to
make trial of its efficacy. Charles did not fail to put this construction on the
conduct of the pope ; and, by an artful comparison of his own efforts to sup-
press heresy, with Paul's scandalous inattention to a point so essential, ne
endeavoured to render the pontiff odious to all zealous catholics. At the same
time, he commanded the prelates of his faction to remain at Trent, that the
council might still appear to have a being, and might be ready whenever it
was thought expedient to resume its deliberations for the good of the church."
The motive of Charles's journey to the Low Countries, besides gratifying
his favourite passion of travelHng from one part of his dominions to another,
was to receive Pliilip, his only son, who was now in the twentv-first year of
his age, and whom he had called thither, not only that he might be recognised
by the states of the Netherlands as heir apparent, but in order to facilitate
the execution of a vast scheme, the object of which, and the reception it met
with, shall be hereafter explained. Philip, having left the government of
Spain to Maximilian, Ferdinand's eldest son, to whom the emperor had givea
the princess Mary, his daughter, in marriage, embarked for Italy, attended by
a numerous retinue of Spanish nobles.^* The squadron which escorted him:
"was commanded by Andrew Doria, who, notwithstanding his advanced age,
insisted on the honour of performing, in person, the same duty to the son,
which he had often discharged towards the father. He landed safely at
Genoa : from thence he went to Milan, and, proceeding through Germany,^
arrived at the imperial court in Brussels. [April 1, 1549.] The states of
Brabant, in the first place, and those of the other provinces iu their order,
acknowledged his right of succession in common form, and he took the cus-
tomary oath to preserve all their privileges inviolate.^* In all the towns of
the Low Countries through which Philip passed, he was received with extra-
ordinary pomp. Nothing that could either express the respect of the people.
or contribute to his amusement, was neglected ; pageants, tournaments, and
public spectacles of every kind, were exhibited, with that expensive magni&-
cence which commercial nations are fond of displaying when, on any occasion,
they depart from their usual maxims of frugfuity. But amidst these scenes
of festivity and pleasure, Philip's natural severity of temper was discernible,
youth itself could not render him agreeable, nor his being a candidate for
power form him to courtesy. He mamtartied a haughty reserve in his be-
haviour, and discovered such manifest partiality towards his Spanish at-
tendants, together with such an avowed preference to the manners of their
country, as highly disgusted the Plemings, and gave rise to that antipathy,
which afterwards occasioned a revolution fatal to him in that part of his do«
minions.^*

Charles was long detained in the Netherlands by a violent attack of the
gout, which returned upon him so frequently, and with such increasing
violence, that it had broken, to a great degree, the vigour of his constitution.
He nevertheless did not slacken his endeavours to enforce the Interim. The
inhabitants of Strasburg, after a long struggle, found it necessary to yield
obedience : those of Constance, who had taken arms in their own defence,
were compelled not only to conform to the Interim, but to renounce their

w Pallavic. pp. 11, 72. si Qchoa, Carolea, p. 362.

« Haraei Annal. Brabant, p. 652.

** M^m. de Eibier, ii. 29. L'Evesque, Mem, du Card. Granvelle, i. 21.

»XOC X.] TUB pope's SCHEMES AGAINST CHABLES. 893

priyileges as a free city, to do homage to Ferdinand as archduke of Austria,
and, as his vassals, to admit an Austrian governor and garrison.'^ Magde-
burg, Bremen, Hamburg, and Lubeck, were the only imperial cities of note
that still continued refi'actory.

" Sleid.pp.474, 491.

BOOK X.

The Pope's Schemes against the Emperor — Election of Pope Julius III.— Diet at Augs-
burg— Schemes of Maurice of Saxony against the Emperor — War upon Magdeburg —
Council summoned at Trent — Attempt to obtain the Liberation of the Landgrave —
Plan of Charles for procuring the Imperial Crown for his Son, Philip — The Pope and
Emperor attempt to recover Parma and Placentia — Octavio makes an Alliance with
Henry II. of France — Hostilities between Charles and Henry — Henry protests against
the Council — Violence of the Emperor against the Protestants — Siege of Magdeburg
by Maurice — Martinuzzi favours the Pretensions of Ferdinand to Hungary — He is as-
sassinated by order of Ferdinand — Maurice makes a Treaty with Henry II. — He de-
mands once more the Liberty of the Landgrave — He amuses the Emperor, and mean-
while makes Preparation for War — He takes the Field — The Emperor endeavours to
gain Time by Negotiation — Maurice takes the Castle of Ehrenberg — The Emperor flies
from Inspruck — He liberates the Elector of Saxony — The Council of Trent breaks up —
The French attack Strasburg — The Operations of Albert of Brandenburg — Negotiations
for peace at Passau at last successful.

[1549.] While Charles laboured, with such unwearied industry, to persuade
or to force the protestants to adopt his regulations with respect to religion,
the eifects of liis steadiness in the execution of his plan were rendered less
considerable by his rupture with the pope, which daily increased. The firm
resolution which the emperor seemed to have taken against restoring Pla-
centia, together with his repeated encroachments on the ecclesiastical juris-
diction, not only by the regulations contained in the Interim, but by his at-
tempt to re-assemble the council at Trent, exasperated Paul to the utmost,
who, with the weakness incident to old age, grew more attached to his family,
and more jealous of his authority, as he advanced in years. Pushed on tiy
these passions, he made new efforts to draw the French king into an alliance
against the emperor ; ^ but findkig that monarch, notwithstanding the here-
ditary enmity between him and Charles, and the jealousy with which he viewed
the successful progress of the imperial arms, as unwilling as formerly to ki-
volve himself in immediate hostilities, he was ooliged to contract his views, and
to think of preventing future encroachments, since it was not in his power
to inflict vengeance on account of those which were past. Por this purpose,
he determined to recal his grant of Parma and Placentia, and after declaring
them to be re-annexed to the holy see, to indemnify his grandson Octavio by
a new estabhshment in the ecclesiastical state. By this expedient he hoped
to gain two points of no small consequence. He first of all rendered his pos-
session of Parma more secure ; as the emperor would be cautious of iuvaaing

1 Mem. de Ribier, ii. 230.

394 DEATH OF POPE PAUL III. j^BOOK. X.

the patrimony of tlie church, though he might seize, without scrupie, a town
belonging to the house of Famese. In the next place, he would acquire a
better chance of recovering Placentia, as his solicitations to that eflect might
decently be urged with greater importunity, and would infallibly be attended
with greater effect, when he was considered not as pleading the cause of his
own family, but as an advocate for the interest of the holy see. But while
Paul was priding himself on this device as a happy refinement in policy, Oc-
tavio, an ambitious and high-spirited young man, who could not bear with
patience to be spoiled of one-half of his territories by the rapaciousness of his
mher-in-law, and to be deprived of the other by the artifices of his grand-
fe,ther, took measures ia order to prevent the execution of a plan fatal to his
interest. He set out secretly from Rome, and having first endeavoured to
surprise Parma, which attempt was frustrated by the fidelity of the governor,
to whom the pope had entrusted the defence of the town, he made overtures
to the emperor of renouncing all connexion with the pope, and of depending
entirely on him for his future fortune. This unexpected defection of one of
the pope's own family to an enemy whom he hated, irritated, almost to mad-
ness, a mind peevish with old age ; and there was no degi-ee of severity to
which Paul might not have proceeded against a grandson whom he reproached
as an unnatural apostate. But, happdy for Octavio, death prevented his
carrying into execution the harsh resolutions which he had taken with respect
to him, and put an end to liis pontificate in the sixteenth year of his admmis-
tration, and the eighty-second of his age.^

2 Among many instances of the credulity or weakness of historians in attributing the
death of illustrious personages to extraordinary causes, this is one. Almost all the his-
torians of the sixteenth century affirm, that the death of Paul III. was occasioned by the
violent passions which the behaviour of his grandson excited ; that being informed, while
he \\ as refreshing himself in one of his gardens near Eome, of Octavio's attempt on Parma,
as well as of his negotiations with the emperor by means of Gonzaga, he fainted away,
continued some hours in a swoon, then became feverish, and died within three days.
This is the account giveu of it by Thuanus, lib. vi. p. 211 ; Adriani, Istor. de' suoi
Tempi, lib, vii. p. 480 ; and by Father Paul, p. 280. Even Cardinal Pallavicini, better
informed than any writer with regard to the events which happened in the papal court,
and, when not warped by prejudice or system, more accurate in relating them, agrees
with their narrative in its chief circumstances. Pullav. lib. ii, p. 74. Paruta, who wrote
nis history by command of the senate of Venice, relates it in the same manner. Istorici
Venez. vol. iv. p. 212. But there was no occasion to search for any extraordinary cause
to account for the death of an old man of eighty-two. There remains an authentic ac-
count of this event, in which we find none of those marvellous circumstances of which
the historians are so fond. The cardinal of Ferrara, who was entrusted with the affairs
of France at the com-t of Eome, and M. d'Urfe, Henry's ambassador in ordinary there,
wrote an account to that monarch of the affair of Parma, and of the pope's death. By
thfese it appears that Octavio's attempt to surprise Parma was made on the 20th of Oc-
tober ; that next day in the evening, and net while he was airing himself in the gardens
of Monte- Cavallo, the pope received intelhgence of what he had done; that he was seized
with such a transport of passion, and cried so bitterly, that his voice was heard in several
apartments of the palace ; tbat next day, however, he was so well as to give an audience
to the cardinal of Ferrara, and to go through business of different kinds ; that Octavio
wrote a letter to the pope, not to Cardinal Farnese his brother, intimating his resolution
of throwing himself into the arms of the emperor ; that the pope received this on the
twenty-first without any new symptoms of emotion, and returned an answer to it; that
on the twenty-second of October, the day on which the cardinal of Ferrara's letter is
dated, the pope was in his usual state of health. Alem. de Ribiei\ ii. p. 247. By a letter
of M. d'Urfe, Nov. 5, it appears that the pope was in such good health, that on the third
of that month he had celebrated the anniversary of his coronation with the usual so-
lemnities. Ibid. p. 251. By another letter from the same person, we learn that on the
sixth of November a catarrh or defluxion fell down on the pope's lungs, with such dan-

I

BOOKX.] ELECTION OF POPE JULIUS m. 891

[1550.] As this event bad been Ions expected, tbere was an extraordinary
concourse of cardinals at Home ; ana tbe various competitors baving bad
time to form tbeir parties, and to concert their measures, their ambition and
intrigues protracted the conclave to a great length. The imperial and
Prench factions strove, with emulation, to promote one of their own number,
and had, by turns, the prospect of success. But as Paul, dui'ing a long pon-
tilicate, had raised many to the purple, and those chiefly of persons of emi-
nent abibties as well as zealously devoted to his family. Cardinal I'amese
had the command of a powerful and united squadron, by whose address and
firmness he exalted to the papal throne the Cardinal cU Monte, whom Paul
had employed as his principal legate in the council of Trent, ana trusted with
his most secret intentions. He assumed the name of Jiilius III., and, in
order to express his gratitude towards his benefactor, the first act of his ad-
ministration was t9 put Octavio Parnese in possession of Pai-ma. When the
injury which he did to the holy see, bv alienating a temtory of such value,
was mentioned by some of the cardinals, he briskly replied. That he would
rather be a poor pope, with the reputation of a gentleman, than a rich one
with the infamy of having forgotten the obUgations conferred upon him, and
the promises which he had made," ^ But all the lustre of this candour or
generosity he quickly eflaced by an action most shockingly indecent. Ac-
cording to an ancient and established practice, every pope upon his election
considers it as his privilege to bestow on whom he pleases the cardinal's hat,
which falls to be disposed of by his being invested with the triple crown.
Julius, to the astonishment of the sacred college, conferred this mark of dis-
tinction, together with ample ecclesiastical revenues, and the right of bearing
his name and arms, upon one Innocent, a youth of sixteen, born of obscure
pai-ents, and known by the name of the Ape, from his having been trusted
with the care of ap. animal of that species m the Cardinal di Monte's family.
Such a prostitution of the highest dignity in the church would have given
offence, even in those dark periods when the credulous superstitions of the
people emboldened ecclesiastics to venture on the most flagrant violations
of d!ecorum. But in an enlightened age, when, by the progress of knowledge
and philosophy, the obligations of duty and decency were better understood,
when a blind veneration for the pontifical _ character was everywhere abated,
and one half of Christendom in open rebellion against the papal see, this action
was viewed with horror. Rome was hnmediately filled with libels and pas-
quinades, which imputed the pope's extravagant regard for such an unworthy
object to the most criminal passions. The protestants exclauned against the
absurdity of supposing that the infallible spirit of divine truth could dwell in
a breast so impure, and called more loudlv than ever, and with greater ap-
pearance of justice, for the immediate and thorough refoimation of a church,
the head of which was a disgrace to the Christian name.* The rest of the
pope's conduct was of a piece with this first specimen of his dispositions.
Having now reached the summit of ecclesiastical ambition, he seemed eager
to indemnify himself, by an unrestrained indulgence of his desires, for the
self-denial or dissimulation which he had thought it prudent to practise while
in a subordinate station. He became cai-eless to so great a degree of all

gerous symptoms, that hb life was immediately despaired of. Ihid. p. 252. And by a
third letter, we are infonned that he died November the tenth. In none of these letteM
Is his death imputed to any extraordinary cause. It appears that more than twenty days
elapsed between Octavio's attempt on Parma and the death of his grandfather, and that
the disease was tlie natural effect of old age, not one of those occasioned by violence ol
passion. ' Hem. de Ribier.

♦ Sleid. p. 492, F.vPaul, p. 281. PaUavic. ii. p. 7G. Thuan. lib. vi, p. 215.

896 NEW DIET AT AUGSBURG. [BOOK X.

serious business, that he could seldom be brought to attend to it, but in cases
of extreme_ necessity ; and giving up himself to amusements and dissipation
of every kind, he imitated the luxurious elegance of Leo rather than the
severe virtue oi Adrian, the latter of which it was necessaryto display, in
contending with a sect which derived great credit from the rigid and austere
manners of its teachers.*

The pope, however read^ to fulfil his engagements to the family of Far-
nese, discovered no inclination to observe the oath, which each cardinal had
taken when he entered the conclave, that, if the choice should faU on him, he
would immediately call the council to re-assume its deliberations. Julius
knew by experience how difficult it was to confine such a body of men within
the narrow limits which it was the interest of the see of Rome to prescribe ;
and how easily the zeal of some members, the rashness of others, or the sug-
gestions of the princes on whom thev_ depended, might precipitate a popular
and iingovemable assembly into forbidden inquiries, as well as dangerous
decisions. He wished, for these reasons, to have eluded the obligation of his
oath, and gave an ambiguous answer to the first proposals which were made
to him by the emperor with regard to that matter. !But Charles, either from
his natural obstinacy in adheriag to the measures which he had once adopted,
or from the mere pride of accomplishing what was held to be almost impos-
sible, persisted in his resolution of forcing the protestants to return into the
bosom of the church. Haviag persuaded himself that the authoritative de-
cisions of the council might be employed with efficacy in combatiu^ their pre-
judices, he, in consequence of that persuasion, continued to solicit earnestly
that a new bull of convocation might be issued ; and the pope could not,
with decency, reject that request. When Julius found that he could not pre-
vent the carnng of a council, he endeavoured to take to himself aU the merit
of having procured the meeting of an assembly, which was the object of such
general desire and expectation. A congregation of cardinals, to whom he re-
ferred the consideration of what was necessary for restoring peace to the
church, recommended, by his direction, the speedy convocation of a council,
as the most effectual expedient for that purpose ; and, as the new heresies
raged with the greatest violence in Germany, they proposed Trent as the
place of its meeting, that, by a near inspection of the evil, the remedy might
be applied with greater discemment^ and certainty of success. The pope
warmly approved of this advice, which he himself had dictated, and sent
nuncios to the imperial and French courts, in order to make know his in-
tentions.®

About this time, the emperor had summoned a new diet to meet at Augs-
burg, in order to enforce the observation of the Interim, and to procure a
more authentic act of the supreme court in the empire, acknowledging the
jurisdiction of the council, as \yell as an explicit promise of conforming to its
decrees. He appeared there in person, together with his son the prince of
Spain. Few electors were present, but aU sent deputies in their name.
Charles, notwithstanding the despotic authority with which he had given law
in the empire during two years, knew that the spirit of iudependence among
the Germans was not entirely subdued, and for that reason took care to
overawe the diet by a considerable body of Spanish troops which escorted
him thither. The first point submitted to the consideration of the diet, was
the necessity of holding a council. All the popish members agreed, without
difficulty, that the meeting of that assembly should be renewed at Trent, and
promised an implicit acquiescence in its decrees. The protestants, intimiaated
and disunited, must have followed their example, and the resolution of the

' F. Paul, p. 281. " F. Paul, p. 281. Pallav. ii. p. 77.

BOOK X.] SCHEMES OP MAURICE OF SAXONY AGAINST CHAHLES. 397

diet •would have proved unanimous, if Maurice of Saxony had not begun at
this time to disclose new intentions, and to act a part very different from that
which he had so lon^ assumed.

By an artful dissimulation of his o-wn sentiments ; by address in faying
court to the emperor ; and by tlie seeming zeal wuth which he forwarded all
his ambitious schemes, Maurice had raised himself to the electoral dimity :
and having added the dominions of the elder branch of the Saxon family
to his own, he was become tlie most powerful prince in Germany. But Ms
long and intimate union with the emperor had afforded him many opportunities
of observing narrowly the dangerous tendency of that monarch's schemes.
He saw the yoke that was preparing f9r his country ; and, from the rapid
as well as formidable progress of the imperial power, was convinced that
but a few steps more remained to be taken, m order to render Charles as ab-
solute a monarch in Germany as he had become in Spain. The more eminent
the condition was to which he himself had been exalted, the more solicitous did
Maurice naturally become to maintain all its rights and privileges, and the
more did he dread the thoughts of descending from the rank oi a prince
almost independent to that of a vassal subject to the commands of a master.
At the same time, he perceived that Charles was bent on exacting a rigid
conformity to the doctrines and rites of the Romish church, instead of allow-
ing liberty of conscience, the promise of which had allured several protestant
grmces to assist him in the war against the confederates of Smalkalde. As
e himself, notwithstanding all the compliances which he had made from mo-
tives of interest, or an excess of confidence in the emperor, was sincerely
attached to the Lutheran tenets, he determined not to be a tame spectator
of the overthrow of a system wliich he believed to be founded in truth.

This resolution, flowing from the love of liberty or zeal for religion, was
stren^heued by political and interested considerations. In that elevated sta-
tion in which Maurice was now placed, new and more extensive prospects
opened to his view. His rank and power entitled him to be the head ot the
;protestants in the empire. His predecessor, the degraded elector, with in-
terior abilities, and territories less considerable, had acquired such an ascen-
dant over the councils of the party ; aiid Maurice neither wanted discernment
to see the advantage of this pre-eminence, nor ambition to aim at attaining
it. But he found himself in a situation which rendered the attempt no less
difficult than the object of it was important. On the one hand, the connexion
which he had formed with the emperor was so intimate, that he could scarcely
Lope to take any -step which tended to dissolve it, without alarming his
ieaiousy, and drawing on himself the whole weight of that power, which
had crushed the greatest confederacy ever formed in Germany. On the other
hand, the calamities which he had brought on the protestant party were so
recent, as well as great, that it seemed almost impossible to regain their
confidence, or to rally and reanimate a body, after he himself had been the
chief instrument in breaking its union and ^'igour. These considerations were
suf&cieut to have discouraged any person of a spirit less adventurous than
Maurice's, But to him the grandeur and difficulty of the enterprise were
allurements ; and he boldly resolved on measures, the idea of which a genius
of an inferior order could not have conceived, or would have trembled at
the thoughts of the danger that attended the execution of them.

His passions concui-red with liis interest in confirming this resolution;
and'the resentment excited by an injury, which he sensibly felt, added new
force to the motives for opposing the emperor, wliich sound policy suggested.
Mauiice, by his authority, had prevailed on the landgrave of Hesse to put
his person in the emperor's power, and had obtained a promise from the
imperial ministers that he should not be detained a prisoner. This had been

I

808 SCHEMES OF MAURICE OF SAXONY AGAINST CHARLES. [BOOK X.

violated in the manner already related. The unhappy land^ave exclaimed as
loudly against his son-in-law as against Charles. The princes of Hesse re-
quired Maurice to fulfil his engagements to their father, who had lost his
liberty by trusting to him ; and all Germany suspected him of having be-
trayed, to an implacable enemy, the friend whom he was most bound to pro-
tect. Eoused by these sohcitations or reproaches, as well as prompted by
duty and afiertion to his father-in-law, Maurice had employed not only en-
treaties but n inonstrances, in order-to procure his release, AH these Charles
had disregarded ; and 'the shame of having been first deceived, and then
slighted, by a prince whom he had served with zeal as well as success, which
merited a very different return, made such a deep impression on Maurice, that
he waited with impatience for an opportunity of being revenged.

The utmost caution as well as the most dehcate address was requisite in
taking every step towards this end : as he had to guard, on the one hand,
against giving a premature alarm to the emperor ; while, on the other, some-
thing considerable and expHcit was necessary to be done, in order to regain
the confidence of the protestant party. Maurice had accordingly applied aU
his powers of art and dissimulation to attain both these points. As he knew
Charles to be inflexible with regard to the submission which he required
to the Interim, he did not hesitate one moment whether he should establish
that form of doctrine and worship in his dominions; but, being sensible
how odious it was to his subjects, instead of violently imposiug it on them
by the mere terror of authority, as had been done in other parts of Ger-
many, he endeavoured to render their obedience a voluntary deed of their
own. Por this purpose he had assembled the clergy of his country at Leipsic,
and had laid the Interim before them, together with the reasons which made
it necessary to conform to it. He had gained some of them by promises,
others he had wrought upon by threats, and all were intimidated by the
rigour with which obedience to the Interin;L was extorted in the neighbouring
;^rovinces. Even Melancthon, whose merit of every kind entitled him to the
first place among the protestant divines, being now deprived of the manly
counsels of Luther, which were wont to inspire him with fortitude, and to
preserve him steady amidst the storms and dangers that threatened the
church, was seduced into unwarrantable concessions, by the timidity of his
temper, his fond desire of peace, and his excessive complaisance towards per-
sons of high rank. By his arguments and authority, no less than by Maurice's
address, the assembly was prevailed on to declare, " that, in points which
were purely indifferent, obedience was due to the commands of a lawful
superior," Founding upon this maxim, no less incontrovertible m theory
than dangerous when carried int9 practice, especially in religions matters,
many of the protestant ecclesiastics whom Maurice consulted proceeded to
class, among the number of things indifferent, several doctrines which Luther
had pointed out as gross and pernicious errors in the Romish creed ; and
placing in the same r^ok many of those rites which distinguished the refonned
from the popish worship, they exhorted theii' people to comply with the
emperor's injunctions concerning these particulars.'^

By this dexterous craduct, the introduction of the Interim excited none of
those violent convulsions in Saxony which it occasioned in other provinces.
But though the Saxons submitted, the more zealous Lutherans exclaimed
against Melancthon and his associates as false brethren, who were either
so wicked as to apostatize from the trath altogether; or so crafty as to betray

' Sleid. pp. 481, 485. Jo. Laur. Moshemii Institutionum Hist. Ecelesiasticas, lib. ir.
Helmst. 1755> 4to. p. 748. Jo. And. Schmidii Historia Interimistica, pp. 70, &a
Helmst. 1730.

BOOK X.] MAT7BICE AND THE COUNCIL OF TEENT. 399

it by subtile distinctions ; or so feeble spirited as to give it up from pusilla-
nimity and criminal complaisance to a prince, capable of sacrificins^ to his
political interest that winch he himself rej^arded as most sacred. Maurice,
being conscious what a colour of probability his past conduct gave to those
accusations, as well as afraid of losing entirely the confidence of the protest-
ants, issued a declaration containing professions of his zealous attachment
to the reformed religion, and of his resolution to guard agauist all the errors
or encroachments oi the papal see.^

Having gone so far iu order to remov.^ the fears and jealousies of the pro-
testants, he found it necessary to efface the impression which such a de-
claration might make upon the emperor. Tor that purpose, he not only
renewed his professions of an inviolable adlierence to his alliance with him,
but, as the city of Magdebui'g still persisted in rejectiug the Interim, he
imdertook to reduce it to obedience, and instantly set about levying troops to
be employed in that service. This damped all the hopes which the protest-
ants began to conceive of Maui'ice, in consequence of his declaration, and
left them more than ever at a loss to ^ess at his real intentions. Their
former suspicion and distinist of him revived, and the divines of Magdeburg
filled Germany with writings in which they represented him as the most for-
midable enemy of the protestant religion, who treacherously assumed an
appearance of zeal for its interest, that he might more effectually execute his
schemes for its destruction.

This charge, supported by the evidence of recent facts as well as by his
present dubious conduct, gained such universal credit, that Mauiice was
obliged to take a vigorous step in his own vindication. As soon as the re-
assembliug of the council of IVent was proposed iu the diet, his ambassadors
protested that theii master would not acknowledge its authority, unless all
the points which had been already decided there were reviewed, and con-
sidered as still imdetennined • unless the protestant diviues had a full hear-
ing granted them, and were allowed a decisive voice in the council ; and unless
the pope renounced his pretensions to preside in the council, engaged to
submit to its decrees, and to absolve the bishops from their oath of obe-
dience, that they might deliver their sentiments with greater freedom. These
demands, which were higher than any that the reformers had ventured to
make, even when the zeal of their party was warmest, or their affairs most
prosperous, counterbalanced m some degree the impression which Maurice's
preparations against Magdeburg had made upon the minds of the pro-
testants, and kept them in suspense with regard to his designs. At the same
time, he had dexterity enough to represent this part of his conduct in such
a light to the emperor, that it gave him no offence, and occasioned no iu-
terruption of the strict confidence which subsisted between them. What
the pretexts were which he employed, in order to give such a bold declaration
an innocent appearance, the contemporary historians have not explained :
that they imposed upon Charles is certain, for he stiU contiuued not only
to prosecute nis plan, as well concerning the Interim as the council, with the
same ardoui-, but to place the same confidence in Maurice, with regard to the
execution of both.

The pope's resolution concerning the coimcil not beui^ yet known at
Augsburg, the chief busiuess of the diet was to enforce the observation of the
Interim. As the senate of Magdeburg, notwithstanding various endeavours
to frighten or to soothe them into comi^liance, not only persevered obstinately
in their opposition to the Interim, but began to strengthen the fortifications
of their city, and to levy troops in their own defence, Charles required the

I

• Sleid-p.

400 WAE UPON MAGDEBURG. [fiOOK 3L

diet to assist him in quelling this audacious rebellion against a decree of the
empire. Had the members of the diet been left to act agreeably to their
own iiiclitiation, this demand would have been rejected without hesitation.
All the Germans who favoured in any degree the new opinions in religion,
and many who were influenced by no other consideration than jealousy of
the emperor's growing power, regarded this effort of the citizens of Magde-
burg as a noble stand for the liberties of their country. Even such as had
no_ resolution to exert the same spirit, admired the gallantry of their enter-
prise, and wished it success. But the presence of the Spanish troops, to-
gether with the dread of the emperor's displeasure, overawed the members
of the diet to such a degree, that, without venturing to uttei their own
sentiments, they tamely ratified, by their votes, whatever the emperor was
pleased to ;prescribe. The rigorous decrees which Charles had issued by Ms
own authority against the Magdeburghers were confirmed ; a resolution was
taken to raise troops in order to besiege the city in form; and persons
were named to fix the contingent in men or money to be furnished by each
state. At the same time, the diet petitioned that Maurice might be en-
trusted with the connnand of that army ; to which Charles gave his consent
with great alacrity, and with high encomiums upon the wisdom of the
choice which they had made.^ As Maurice conducted all liis schemes with
profound and impenetrable secrecy, it is probable that he took no step
avowedly in order to obtain this charge. The recommendation of his coun-
trymen was either purely accidental, or flowed from the opinion generally
entertained of his great abilities; and neither the diet had any foresight,
nor the emperor any dread of the consequences which followed upon this
nomination. Maurice accepted, without hesitation, the command to which
he was recommended, instantly discerning the important advantages which he
might derive from havuig it committed to him.

Meanwhile Julius, in preparing the bull for the convocation of the council,
observed all those tedious forms which the court of Rome can artfully em-
ploy to retard any disagreeable measure. At last, however, it was published,
and the council was summoned to meet at Trent on the first day of the en-
suing month of May. As he knew that many of the Germans rejected or
disputed the authority and jurisdiction which the papal see claims with
respect to general councils, he took care, in the preamble of the bull, to assert
in the strongest terms liis own right not only to call and preside m that as-
sembly, but to direct its proceedings ; nor would he soften these expressions
in any degree, in compliance with the repeated solicitations of the emperor,
who foresaw what offence they would give, and what construction might be
put on them. [1551.] They were censured, accordingly, with great severity
by several members of the diet ; but whatever disgust or suspicion they ex-
cited, such complete influence over all their deliberations had the emperor
acquired, that he procured a recess, in which the authority of the council
was recognised and declared to be the proper remedy for the evils which at
that time afilicted the church ; all the prmces and states of the empire, such
as had made innovations in religion, as well as those who adhered to the
system of their forefathers, were required to send their representatives to
the council ; the emperor engaged to grant a safe-conduct to sucli as de-
manded it, and to secure them an impartial hearing in the council ; he pro-
mised to fix his residence in some city of the empire, in the neighbourhood
of Trent, that he might protect the members of the council by his pre-
sence, and take care that, by conducting their deliberations agreeably to
scripture and the doctrine of the fathers, they might bring them to a desir-

» Sleid. pp. 603, 612.

lOOK X.] THE EMPKROR's SCTIEME OF SUCCESSION. 401

able issue. lu this recess, the observation of the Interim was more strongly
enjoined than ever ; and the emperor threatened all who had hitherto neg-
lected or refused to conlbrm to it, with the severest effects of his vengeance,
ii" they persisted in their disobedience.'"

During the meeting of this diet, a new attempt was made in order to procure
liberty to the landgrave. That prince, nowise reconciled to his situation by
time, grew every day more impatient of restraint. Having often applied to
Maurice and the elector of Brandenburg, who took every occasion of solicit-
ing the emperor in his behalf, though without any effect, he now commanded
his sons to summon them with legal formality, to perform what was con-
tained in the bond wliich they had granted him, by surrendering themselves
into their hands to be treated with the same rigour as the emperor had used
him. This furnished them with a fresh pretext for renewing their application
to the emperor, together with an additional argument to enforce it. Charles
firmly resolved not to grant their request : though, at the same time, being
extremely desirous to be delivered from their incessant importunity, he en-
deavoured to prevail on the landgrave to give up the bond which he had
received from the two electors. But that prince refusing to part with a
security wliicii he deemed essential to his safety, the emperor boldly cut the
knot wliich he could not untie ; and, by a public deed, annulled the bond
which Maurice and the elector of Brandenburg liad granted, absolving them
from all their engagements to the landgrave. No pretension to a power so
pernicious to society as that of abrogating at pleasure the most sacred laws
of honour, and most formal obligations of public faith, had hitherto been
formed by any but the Koman pontiffs, who, in consequence of their claim
of supreme power on earth, arrogate the right of dispensing with precepts
and duties of every kind. All Germany was filled with astonishment when
Charles assumed the same prerogative. The state of subjection to which
the empire was reduced appeared to be more rigorous, as well as intolerable,
than that of the most wretched and enslaved nations, if the emperor by an
arbitrary decree might cancel those solemn contracts, which are the founda-
tion of that mutual confidence whereby men are held together in social union.
The landgrave himself now gave up all hopes of recovering his liberty by the
emperor's consent, and endeavoured to procure it bv his own address. But
the plan which he had formed to deceive his guards being discovered, such
of his attendants as he had gained to favour his escape were put to death,^
and he was confined in the citadel of Mechlin more closely than ever."

Another transaction was carried on during this diet, with respect to an affair
more nearly interesting to the emperor, and which occasioned likewise a ge-
neral alarm among the princes of the empire. Charles, though formed with
talents which fitted him for conceiving and conducting great designs, was not
capable, as has been often observed, of bearing extraordinary success. Its
operation on his mind was so violent and intoxicating, that it elevated him
oeyond what was moderate or attainable, and turned his whole attention to
the pursuit of vast but chimerical objects. Such had been the effect of his
victory over the confederates of Smalkalde, He did not long rest satisfied
with the substantial and certain advantages which were the result of that
event, but, despising these, as poor or inconsiderable fruits of such great suc-
cess, he aimed at nothing less than at bringing all Germany to a uniformity
in religion, and at rendering the imperial power despotic. These were ob-
jects extremely splendid indeed, and alluring to an ambitious mind; the
pursuit of them, however, was attended with manifest danger, and the hope

'0 Sleid. p. 512. Thnan. lib. vi. p. 233. Goldasti Constit. Imoeriales, vol ii. p. 340.
i» tsleid. p. 604. Till lib. vi. pp. 234, 235.

2

402 CHAELES'S PROPOSITION TO PEEDIKAND. [BOOK X.

of attaining them very uncertain. But the steps which he had already taten
towards them having been accompanied with such success, his imagination,
warmed with contemplating this alluring object, overlooked or despised all
remaining difficulties. As he conceived the execution of his plan to be certain,
he began to be solicitous how he might render the possession of such an im-
portant acquisition perpetual in his family, by transmitting the German em-
pire, together with the kingdoms 9f Spain, and his dominions in Italy and the
Low Countries, to his son. Having long revolved this flattering idea in his
mind, without conununicatuig it even to those ministers whom he most trusted,
he had called Philip out of Spain, in hopes that his presence would facilitate
the carrying forward the scheme.

Great obstacles, however, and such as would have deterred any ambition
less accustomed to overcome difficulties, were to be surmounted. He had, in
the year one thousand five hundred and thirty, imprudently assisted in pro-
curing his brother Ferdiaand the dignity of king of the Romans, and there
was no probability that tliis prince, who was stiU ia the prime of life, and had
a son grown up to the years of manhood, would relincjuish, in favour of his
nephew, the near prospect of the imperial throne, which Charles's infirmities
and declining state of health opened to liimself. This did not deter the em-
peror from venturing to make the proposition ; and when Ferdinand, notwith-
standing; his profound reverence for his brother, and obsequious submission to
his will in other instances, rejected it in a peremptory tone, he was not dis-
couraged by one repulse. He renewed his applications to him by his sister
Mary, queen of Hungary, to whom Ferdinand stood indebted for the crowns
both of Hungary and Bohemia, and who, by her great abilities, tempered with
extreme gentleness of disposition, had acquired an extraordinary infi.uence
overboth the brothers. She entered warmly into a measure, which tended so
manifestlv to aggrandize the house of Austria ; and, flattering herself that
she could tempt Ferdinand to renounce the reversionary possession of the
imperial dignity for an immediate establishment, she assured Mm that the
emperor, by way of compensation for his giving up his chance of succession,
would instantly bestow upon him territories of very considerable value, and
pointed out in particular those of the duke of Wurtemberg, which might be
confiscated upon different pretexts. But neither by her address nor entreaties
could she induce Ferdinand to approve of a plan, which would not only have
degraded him from the highest rank among the monarchs of Europe to that of
a subordinate and dependent prince, but would have involved both him and
his posterity in perpetual contests. He was, at the same time, more attached
to his children, than, by a rash concession, to frustrate all the high hopes,
in prospect of which they had been educated.

Notwithstanding the immovable firmness which Ferdinand discovered, the
emperor did not abandon his scheme. He flattered himself that he might
attain the object in view by another channel, and that it was not impossible
to prevail on the electors to cancel their former choice of Ferdinand, or, at
least, to elect Philip a second king of the Romans, substituting hkn as next
in succession to his uncle. With this view, he took Philip along with him to
the diet, that the Gernaans might have an opportunity to observe and become
acquainted with the prince, in behalf of whom he courted their interest ; and
he himself employed all the arts of address or insinuation to gain the electors,
and to prepare them for listening with a favourable ear to the proposal. But
up sooner did he venture upon mentioning it to them, than they at once saw
and trembled at the consequences with which it would be attended. They
had long felt aU the inconveniences of having placed at the head of the empire
a prince whose power and dominions were so extensive : if they should now
repeat the folly, and contuiue the imperial crown, like an hereoitary dignity.

BOOK X.J PUIUP DISWKED BY THE GERMANS. 403

in the same familv, they foresaw that they would give the son an opportunity
of carrjing on that system of oppression which the father had be^in; and
would put it in his power to overtui'u whatever was yet left entnc in the
ancient and venerable fabric of the German constitution.

The character of the prince, in whose favour this extraordinary proposition
was made, rendered it still less agreeable. PhiUp, though possessed with an
insatiable desu-e of power, was a stranger to aU the arts of conciliating good-
will. Haughty, reserved, and severe, lie, instead of gaining new friends, dis-
gusted the ancient and most devoted partisans of the Austrian interest. He
scorned to take the trouble of acquiring the language of the country to the
government of which he aspked ; nor would he condescend to pay the Ger-
mans the compliment of accommodating himself, during his residence among
them, to their manners and customs. He allowed the electors and most illus-
trious princes in Germany to remain in his presence uncovered, affecting a
stately and distant demeanour, which the greatest of the German emperors,
and even Charles himself, amidst the pride of power and victory, had never
assiuned.'- On the other hand, Ferdmand, from the time of his arrival ia
Germany, had studied to render himself acceptable to the people by a con-
formity to their manners, which seemed to flow from choice ; and his son,
Maximilian, who was bom in Gennany, possessed, in an eminent degree, such
amiable qualities, as rendered him the darling of his countrymen, and induced
them to look forward to his election as a most desirable event. Their esteem
and affection for hini fortified the resolution which sound |)olicy had sug-
gested, and determined the Germans to prefer the popular vii-tues of Eerdi-
nand and his son, to the stubborn austerity of Philip, which interest could
not soften, nor ambition teach him to disguise. AIT the electors, the eccle-
siastical as well as secular, concui-red in expressing such strong disapprobation
of the measurej that Charles, notwithstanding the reluctance with which he
gave up auv point, was obliged to drop the scheme as impracticable. By his
unseasonable perseverance m pushing it, he had not only filled the Germans
with new jealousy of his ambitious designs, but laid the foimdation of rival-
ship and discord in the Austrian fanuly, and forced his brother Perdinand, in
self-defence, to court the electors, particularly Maurice of Saxony, and to form
such connexions with them as cut off aU prospect of renewing the proposal
with success. Philip, soured by his disappointment, was sent back to Spain,
to be called thence when any new scheme of ambition should render his
presence necessary.*'

_ Having relinquished this plan of domestic ambition, which had long occu-
pied and engrossed him, Charles imagined that he would now have leisure to
turn all his attention towards his grand scheme of estabhshing uniformity of
religion in the empire, by forcing all the contending parties to acquiesce in
the decisions of the council of Trent. But such was the extent of his domi-
nions, the variety of connexions m which this entangled him, and the multi-
plicity of events to which these gave rise, as seldom allowed him to apply his
whole force to any one object. The machine which he had to conduct was so
great and complicated, that an unforeseen irregularity or obstruction in one
of the inferior wheels often disconcerted the motion of the whole, and pre-
vented his deri\in^ from them all the beneficial eflects which he expected.
Such an unlooked-for occuiTcnce happened at this juncture, and created new
obstacles to the execution of his schemes with regard to religion. JuHus ILL,

m

Frediman Andreae Zulich Dissertatio Politico-Historica de Naevis politicis Caroli V.
. 170G, 4to. p. 21.

3 Skid. p. 505. Thuan. pp. 180, 238. Mem. de Eibier, iL pp. 219, 281, 314. Adriani,
latot. lib. viii. pp. 507, 520.

2d2

404 ALLIANCE BETWEEN HENRY II. AND OCTAVIO FARNESE. [bOOK X.

though he had confirmed Octavio Famese in the possession of the duchy of
Parma, during the first effusions of his joy and gratitude on his promotiou to
the papal throne, soon began to repent of his own generosity, aud to be ap-
prehensive of consequences which either he did not foresee, or had disre-
farded, while the sense of his obligations to the family of Famese was recent,
'he emperor still retained Placentia in his hands, and had not rehnquished
his pretensions to Parma as a fief of the empire. Gonzaga, the governor of
Milan, having by the part which he took in the murder of the late duke,
Peter Ludovico, offered an insult to the family of Parnese, which he knew
could never be forgiven, had, for that reason, vowed its destruction, and em-
ployed all the influence which his great abilities, as well as long services,
gave him with the emperor, in persuading him to seize Parma by force of
arms. Charles, in compliance with his solicitations, and that he might gratify
his own desire of annexing Parma to the Milanese, listened to the proposal ;
and Gonzaga, ready to take encouragement from the slightest appearance of
approBation, began to assemble troops, and to make other preparations for
the execution of his scheme.

Octavio, who saw the impending danger, found it necessary for his own
safety to increase the garrison of his capital, and to levy soldiers for defending
the rest of the country. But, as the expense of such an effort far exceeded his
scanty revenues, he represented his situation to the pope, and implored that
protection and assistance which was due to him as a vassal of the church.
The imperial minister, however, had already pre-occupied the pope's ear ; and,
by discoursing continually concerning the danger of giving offence to the em-
peror, as well as the imprudence of supporting Octavio m an usurpation so
detrimental to the holy see, had totally alienated him from the family of Par-
nese. _ Octavio's remonstrance and petition met, of consequence, with a cold
reception ; and he, despairing of any assistance from Julms, began to look
round for protection from some other quarter. Henry 11. of France was the
only prince powerful enough to afford him this protection, and, fortunately,
he was now in a situation which allowed him to grant it. He had brought
his transactions with the two British kingdoms, which had hitherto diverted
his attention from the affairs of the continent, to such an issue as he desii-ed.
This he had effected partly by the vigour of his arms, partly by his dexterity
in taking advantage of the political factions which raged in both kingdoms
to such a degree as rendered the councils of the Scots violent and precipitate,
and the operations of the English feeble and unsteady. He had procured
from the English favourable conditions of peace for his allies the Scots ; he
had prevaded on the nobles of Scotland not only to afiiance their young queen
to his son the dauphin, but even to send her into France, that she might be
educated under his eye ; and had recovered Boulogne, together with its de-
pendencies, which had been conquered by Henry VIII.

The French king, having gained points of so much consequence to his
crown, and disengaged himself with such honour from the burden of sup-
porting the Scots, and maintaining a war against England, was now at full
leisure to pursue the measures which his hereditary iealousy of the emperor's
power naturally suggested. He listened, accordingly, to the first overtures
which Octavio Farnese made him ; and, embracing eagerly an opportmiity of
recovering footing in Italy, he instantly concluded a treaty, in which he bound
himself to espouse his cause, and to furnish him all the assistance which he
desii-ed. This transaction coidd not long be kept secret from the pope, who,
foreseeing the calamities which must follow if war were rekindled so near
the ecclesiastical state, immediately issued monitory letters, requiring Oc-
tavio to rehnquish his new alliance. Upon his refusal to comply with the
requisition, he soon after pronounced his fief to be forfeited, and declared

BOOK X.] UENRY PROTESTS AGAINST THE COUKCIL OF TPxENT. 405

•war agjiinst him as a disobedient and rebellious vassal. But, as with his own
forces aloue he could not hope to subdue Octavio while supported by such a
powerful fdly as the king of JFrance, he had recourse to the emperor, who,
being extremely solicitous to prevent the establishment of the IVench in
Parma, ordered Gonziiga to second Julius with all his troops. Thus the
I'reuch took the held as the allies of Octavio, the imperialists as the pro-
tectors of the holy see ; and hostiUties commenced oetween them, wnile
Chai-les and Henry themselves still affected to give out that they would ad-
here inviolably to the peace of Crespy. The war of Parma was not distiu-
guished by any memorable event. Many small rencounters happened with
idteruate success; the Prench ravaged part of the ecclesiastical territories;
the imperialists laid waste the Parmesan ; and the latter, after having begun
to besiege Parma in form, were obliged to abandon the enterprise with dis-
grace."

But the motions and alarm which this war, or the preparations for it, oc-
casioned in Italy, prevented most of the Italian prelates from repairing to
Trent on the first of May, the day appointed for reassembling the council :
and though the papal legates and nuncios resorted thither, they were obliged
to adjourn the council to the first of September, hoping such a number of

{)relates might then assemble, that they might with decencj^ begin their de-
iberations. At that time about sixty prelates, mostly from the ecclesi-
astical state, or from Spain, together with a few Germans, convened. ^^
The session was opened, with the accustomed formalities, and the fathers
were about to proceed to business, when the abbot of Bellozane appeared, and
presenting letters of credence, as ambassador from the king ot Prance, de-
manded audience. Having obtained it, he protested, in Henry's name, against
an assembly called at such an improper juncture, when a war, wantonly
kindled by the pope, made it impossible for the deputies from the Gallican
chvu'ch to resort to Trent in salety, or to deliberate concerning articles of
faith and discipline with the requisite tranquillity ; he declared, that his master
did not acknowledge this to be a general or oecumeuic council, but must con-
sider, and would treat it as a pai'tieular and partial convention.'^ The legate
affected to despise this protest ; and the prelates proceeded, notwithstanding,
to examine and decide the great points in controversy concerning the sacra-
ment of the Lord's Supper, penance, and extreme unction. Thi^ measure
of the French monai-ch, however, gave a deep wound to the credit of the
coimcil, at the ver>' commencement of its deliberations. The Germans could
not pay much regard to an assembly, the authority of which the second priace
in Cliristendom had formally disclaimed, or feel any great reverence for the
decisions of a few men, who arrogated to themselves all the rights belonging
to the representatives of the church imiversal, a title to which they had such
jjoor pretensions.

Tlie emperor, nevertheless, was straining his authority to the utmost,
in order to establish the reputation and juiisdiction of the council. He had
prevailed on the three ecclesiastical electors, the prelates of greatest power
and dignity in the church next to the pope, to repair thither in person. He
had obliged several German bishops of inferior rank to go to Trent them'-
selves, or to send theii- proxies. He granted an imperial safe-conduct to the
ambassadors nominated oy the elector of Brandenbui'g, the duke of Wurtem-
berg, and other protestants, to attend the council; and exhorted them
to send their divines thither, in order to propound, explain, and defead their

" Adriani, Istor. lib. viii. pp. 605, 614, 524. Sleid. p. 513. Paruta, p. 220. Lettere dei
Caro scritte al nome del Card. Farnese, torn. ii. 11, &c,
" F. Paul, p. 268. " Sleid. p. 618. Thuan. p. 282. F. Paul, p. 301.

406 THE SIEGE OT MAGDEBUKG. [BOOK X.

doctrine. At the same time, his zeal anticipated the decrees of the council;
and, as if the opinions of the protestants had already been condemned, he
took large steps towards exterminating them. With this intention, he called
together the ministers of Augsburg, and, after interrogating them concern-
ing several controverted points, enjoined them to teach nothing with respect
to these contrary to the tenets of the Romish ohurch. Upon their declining
to comply with a requisition so contrary to the dictates of their consciences,
he commanded them to leave the town in three days, without revealiug to
any person the cause of their banishment ; he prohibited them to preach for
the future in any province of the empire ; and obHged them to take an oath
that they would punctually obey these injunctions. They were not the only
victims to his zeal. The protestant clergy, in most of the cities in the
circle of Swabia, were ejected with the same violence ; and iu many places,
such magistrates as had distinguished themselves by their attachment to
the new opinions, were dismissed with the most abrupt irregularity, and their
offices filled, in consequence of the emperor's arbitrary appointment, with
the most bigoted of their adversaries. The reformed worship was ahnost
entirely suppressed throughout that extensive province. The ancient and
fundamental privileges of the free cities were violated. The people were com-
pelled to attend the ministration of priests whom they regarded with horrcar
as idolaters ; and to submit to the jurisdiction of magistrates whom they de-
tested as usurpers.""

The emperor, after this discovery, which was more explicit than any that
he had hitherto made of his intention to subvert the German constitution,
as well as to extirpate the protestant religion, set out for Inspruck in the
Tyrol. He fixed his residence in that city, as, by its situation in the neigh-
bourhood of Trent, on the confines of Italy, it appeared a commodious station
whence he might inspect the operations of the council, and observe the pro-
gress of the war in the Parmesan, without losing sight of such occurrences as
might happen in Germany.^*

During these transactions, the siege of Magdeburg was carried on with
varied success. At the time when Charles proscribed the citizens of Mag-
deburg, and put them under the ban of the empire, he had exhorted, and even
enjoined, all the neighbouring states to take arms against them as rebels
and common enemies. Encouraged by his exhortations as well as ijromises.
George of Mecklenburg, a younger brother of the reigning duke, an active and
ambitious prince, collected a considerable number of those soldiers of fortune
who had accompanied Henry of Brunswick in all his wild enterprises : and
though a zealous Lutheran himself, invaded the territories of the Magdeburg-
hers, hoping that, by the merit of this service, he might procure some part of
their domains to be allotted to him as an establishment. The citizens, unac-
customed as yet to endure patiently the calamities of war, could not be re-
strained from sallying out, in order to save their lands from being laid waste.
They attacked the duke of Mecklenburg with more resolution than conduct,
and were repulsed with great slaughter. But, as they were animated with
that unconquerable spirit which flows from zeal for religion, co-operating
with the love of civil liberty, far from being disheartened by their misfortune,
they prepared to defend themselves with vigour. Many of the veteran sol-
diers who had served in the long wars between the emperor and the king
of France, crowding to their standards under able and experienced officers, the
citizens acquired militarv skOl by degrees, and added all the advantages of
that to the eflbrts of undaunted coui-age. The duke of Mecklenburg, not-
tyithstanding the severe blow which he had given the Magdeburghers, not

»' Sleid. pp. 516, 528. Thuan. p. 276. » Sleid. p. 329.

I

BOOK X.] MAGDEBUHG SURRENDEBS 10 MAURICE. 40?

daring to invest a town strongly fortified, and defended by sucli a garrison,
continued to ravage the open country.

As the hopes ot booty drew many adventurers to the camp of this young
priuco, Maurice of Saxony began to be jealous of the power which he pos-
sessed by being at the head of such a numerous body, and marching towards
Magdeburg with his own troops, assumed the sui)reme command of the
whole army, — an honour to which his high rank and great abilities, as well as
the nomination of the diet, gave him an indisputable title. With tliis united
force he invested the town, and began the siege in form ; claiming great merit
with the emperor on that account, as, from his zeal to execute the imperial
decree, he was exposing himself once more to the censui-es and maledictions
of the party with which he agreed in religious sentiments. But the approaches
to the town went on slowly ; the garrison inten-upted the besiegers by fre-
quent sallies, in one of which Greorge of Mecklenourg was taken prisoner,
levelled part of their works, and cut off the soldiers in their advanced posts.
While the citizens of Magdeburg, animated by the discourses of their pas-
tors, and the soldiers, encouraged by the example of their officers, endured
all the hardships of a siege without murmuring, and defended themselves
with the same ardour which they had at first discovered, the troops of the
besiegei-s acted with extreme remissness, repining at everything that they
sufl'ered in a service they disliked. They broke out more than once into
open mutiny, demanding the arreai-s of their pay, which, as the members of
the Germanic body sent in their contributions towards defraying the ex-
penses of the war sparingly, and with great reluctance, amounted to a con-
siderable sum.'^ Maurice, too, had particular motives, though such as he
durst not avow at that juncture, wliich induced him not to push the siege
with vigour, and made him choose rather to continue at the head of an army
exposed to all the imputations which his dilatoiy pi-oceedings drew upon him,
than to precipitate a conquest that might have brought him some accession
of reputation, but would have rendered it necessary to disband his forces.

At last, the inhabitants of the town beginning to suffer distress from want
of provisions, and Maurice, finding it impossible to protract matters any
longer without fiUing the emperor with such suspicions as might have dis-
concerted all his measures, he concluded a treaty of capitulation -^ith the
city upon the following conditions : That the Magdebui'ghers should humbly
implore pardon of the emperor ; that they should not for the future take
arms, or enter into any alliance against the house of Austria; that they
should submit to the authority of the imperial chamber ; that they should con-
form to the decree of the diet at Augsburg with respect to religion ; that the
new fortifications added to the town should be demolished ; that they should
pay a fine of fifty thousand crowns, deliver up twelve pieces of ordnance to
the emperor, and set the duke of Mecklenburg, together with their other
prisoners, at liberty, without ransom. Next day their garrison marched out,
and Maurice took possession of the town with great military pomp.

Before the terms of capitulation were settled, Maurice had held many
conferences with Albei-t count Mansfeldt, who had the chief command in
.Magdeburg. He consulted likewise with Comit Heideck, an officer who had
tBerved with great reputation in the army of the league of Smalkalde, whom
the emperor had proscribed on account of his zeal for that cause, but whom
Maurice had, notwithstanding, secretly engaged in his semcc, and admitted
into the most intimate confidence. To them he communicated a scheme, which
he had long revolved in his mind, for procuring liberty to his father-in-law.
the landgrave, for viudicating the privileges of the Germanic body, ana

'» Thuan. p. 277. Sleid. p. 614.

408 Maurice's success at magdeburg. [book x.

setting bounds to tlie dangerous encroacliments of tlie imperial power.
Having deliberated with them concerning the measures whieli might be
necessary for securing the success of such an arduous enterprise, he gave
Mansfeldt secret assurances that the fortifications of Magdeburg should not
be destroyed, and that the inhabitants should neither be disturbed in the ex-
ercise of their religion, nor be deprived of any of their ancient immunities.
In order to engage Maurice more thoroughly, from considerations of interest,
to fulfil these engagements, the senate of Magdeburg elected him their
burgrave, a dignity which had formerly belonged to the electoral house of
Saxony, and which entitled him to a very ample jurisdiction, not only in the
city, but in its dependencies.^"

Thus the citizens of Magdeburg, a,fter enduring a siege of twelve months,
and struggling for theii' liberties, religious and civil, with an invincible for-
titude worthy of the cause in which it was exerted, had, at last, the good for-
tune to conclude a treaty which left them in a better condition than the rest
of their countrymen, whom their timidity or want of public spirit had betrayed
into such mean submissions to the emperor. But while a great part of Ger-
many applauded the gallant conduct of the Magdeburghers, and rejoiced in
their having escaped the destruction with which they had been threatened,
all admired Maurice's address in the conduct of his negotiation with them, as
well as the dexterity with which he converted every event to liis own ad-
vantage. They saw with amazement that, after having afilicted the Magde-
burghers during many nionths with all the calamities of war, he was at last,
by their voluntary election, advanced to the station of highest authority in
that city which he had so lately besieged ; that, after having been so long the
object of their satirical invectives as an apostate, and an enemy to the reli-

fion which he professed, they seemed now to place unbounded confidence in
is zeal and good-wiU.-^ At the same time, the public articles in the treaty of
capitulation were so perfectly confonnable to those which the emperor had

granted to the other protestant cities, and Maurice took such care to magnify
is merit in having reduced a place which had defended itself with so mucn
obstinacy, that Charles, far from suspecting anything fraudulent or collusive
in the terms of acconunodation, ratified them without hesitation, and ab-
solved the Magdeburghers from the sentence of ban which had been de-
nounced against them.

The only point that now remained to embarrass Maurice was, how to keep
together the veteran troops which had served under him, as well as those which
had been employed in the defence of the town. Por this, too, he found an ex-
pedient with singular art and felicity. His schemes against the emperor were
not yet so fully ripened that he d3irst venture to disclose them, and proceed
openly to carry them into execution. The winter was approacliing, which
made it impossible to take the field immediately. He was afraid that it would

five a, premature alarm to the emperor, if he should retain such a considerable
ody in his pay until the season of action retui-ned in the spring. As soon,
then, as Magdeburg opened its gates, he sent home his Saxon subjects, whom
he could command to take arms and re-assemble on the shortest warning ; and,
at the same time, paying part of the arrears due to the mercenary troops who
had followed his standard, as well as to the soldiers who had served in the
garrison, he absolved them from their respective oaths of fidelity, and dis-
banded them. But the moment he gave them their discharge, George of
3Iecklenburg, who was now set at liberty, offered to take them into his ser-
vice, and to become surety for the payment of what was still owing to them.

««> Sleid. p. 528. Thuan. p. 276. Obsidionis Magdeburgicae Descriptio per Sebast. Bes-
selmeierum, ap. Scard. ii. p. 518.
21 Arnold! Vita Maurit. apud Menken, ii. d. 1227.

BOOK X.] HIS DUPLICITY TOWARDS CHAHLES. 409

As such adventurers were accustomed often to change masters, they instantly
accepted the offer. Thus, these troops were kept united, and ready to march
wherever Maurice should call them; while the emperor, deceived by this
artifice, and imagining that George of Mecklenburg had hired them with an
intention to assert his claim to a part of liis brother's tenitories by force of
arms, suffered this transaction to pass without observation, as if it had been
:i matter of no consequence."

Having ventured to take these steps, which were of so much consequence
towards the execution of his schemes, Maurice, that he might divert the em-
peror from observing their tendency too narrowly, and prevent the suspicions
which that must have excited, saw the necessity of employing some new
artifice in order to engage his attention, and to confirm him in his present
security. As he knew that the chief object of the emperor's solicitude at this
juncture, was how he might prevail with the protestant states of Germany to
recognise the authority of the council of Trent, and to send thither ambas-
sadors in their own name, as well as deputies from their respective churches,
lie took hold of this predominating passion ia order to amuse and to deceive
him. He affected a wonderful zeal to gratify Charles in what he desired Avith
regard to this matter ; he nominated ambassadors, whom he empowered to
attend the council ; he made choice of Melancthon and some of the most emi-
nent among his brethren to prepare a confession of faith, and to lay it before
that assembly. After his example, and probably in consequence of his soli-
citations, the duke of Wurtemberg, the city of Strasburg, and other pro-
testant states, appointed ambassadors and divines to attend the council. They
all appHed to tlie emperor for liis safe-conduct, which they obtained in the
most ample form. This was deemed sufficient for the security of the ambas-
sadors ; and they proceeded accordingly on their journey ; but a separate safe-
conduct from the council itself was demanded for the protestant divines. The
fate of John Huss and Jerome of Prague, whom the council of Constance, in
the preceding century, had condemned to the flames without regarding the
imperial safe-conduct which had been granted them, rendered this precaution
prudent and necessary. But as the pope was no less unwilling that the pro-
testants should be admitted to a hearing in the council, than the emperor nad
been eager in bringing them to demand it, the legate by promises and threats
prevailed on the fathers of the council to decline issuing a safe-conduct in
the same form as that which the cpuncil of Basil had granted to the followers
of Huss. The protestants, on their part, insisted upon the council's copjin^
the precise words of that instrument. The imperial ambassadors interposed,
in order to obtain what would satisfy them. Alterations in the fonn of the
writ were proposed ; expedients were suggested ; protests and counter-pro-
tests were taken : the legate, together with liis associates, laboured to gain
their pomt by artifice and chicane ; the protestants adhered to theirs with
firmness and obstinacy. An account of everything that passed in Ti'ent was
transmitted to the emperor at Inspnick, who, attempting, from an excess of
zeal, or of confidence m his own address, to reconcile the contending parties,
was involved in a labyrinth of inextricable negotiations. By means of this,
however, Maurice gained all that he had in view ; the emperor's time was
wholly engrossed, and his attention diverted; while he himself had leisure to
mature his schemes, to carr\' on his intrigues, and to finish his preparations,
before he threw off the mask, and struck the blow which he had so long me-
ditated."
Uut, previous to entering into any further detail concerning Maurice's

m

i

22 Thuan. p. 278. Struv. Corp. Hist. Germ. p. 1064. Arnold! Vita Mauritii, apud
Menken, u. p. 1227.
« Sleid. i.p. 5'J6, 529. F. Paul, W). 323 338 Thuan. *. 286.

410 THE AFFAIKS OF HUNGABY. [BOOK X.

operations, some account must be given of a new revolution in Hungary,
which contributed not a little towards thmr producing such extraordinary
effects. When Solyman, in the year 1541, by a stratagem, which suited the
base and insidious poHcy of a petty usurper, rather than the magnanimity of
a might}^ conqueror, deprived the young king of Hungary of the dominions
which his father had left him, he had granted that unfortunate prince the
country of Transylvania, a province of his paternal kingdom. The govern-
ment of this, together with the care of educating the young king, for he still
allowed him to retain that title, though he had rendered it only an empty
name, he committed to the queen and Martinuzzi, bishop of Waradin, whom
the late king had appointed joint-guardians of his sou, and regents of his
dominions, at a time when those offices were of greater unportance. This co-
ordinate iurisdiction occasioned the same dissensions in a small principality
as it would have excited in a great kingdom; an ambitious young queen, pos-
sessed with a high opinion of her own capacity for governing, and a high-
spirited prelate, fond of power, contending who should engross the greatest
snare in the administration. Each had their partisans among the nobles ; but
as Martinuzzi, by his great talents, began to acquire the ascendant, Isabella
turned liis own arts against him, and courted the protection of the Turks.

The neighbouring bashas, jealous of the bishop's power as well as abilities,
readUy promised her the aid which she demanded, and would soon have
obliged Martinuzzi to have given up to her the sole direction of affairs, if his
ambition, fertile in expedients, had not suggested to him a new measure, and
one that tended not only to preserve, but to enlarge his authority. Having
concluded an agreement with the queen, by the mediation of some of the
nobles who were solicitous to save their country from the calamities of a civil
war, he secretly despatched one of his confidants to Vienna, and entered into
a negotiation with Ferdinand, As it was no difficult matter to persuade Fer-
dinand that the same man whose enmity and intrigues had driven him out of
a great part of his Hungarian dominions, might, upon a reconciliation, become
equally instrumental in recovering them, he listened eagerly to the first over-
tures of an union with that prelate. Martinuzzi aUnred him by such prospects
of advantage, and engaged, with so much confidence, that he would prevail
on the most powerful of the Hungarian nobles to take arms in his favour,
that Ferdinand, notwithstanding his truce with Solyman, agreed to invade
Transylvania. The command of the troops destined lor that service, consist- ''
mg of veteran Spanish and German soldiers, was given to Castaldo, Marquis
de Piadena, an officer formed by the famous Marquis de Pescara, whom he
strongly resembled both in his enterprising genius for civil business, and in
his great knowledge in the art of war. This army, more formidable by the
discipline of the soldiers, and the abilities of the general, than by its numbers,
was powerfully seconded by Martinuzzi and his faction among the Hun-
garians. As the Tui-kish bashas, the sultan himself being at the head of his
army on the frontiers of Persia, could not afford the queen such immediate
or effectual assistance as the exigency of her affairs requiredj she quickly lost
aU hopes of being able to retaia any longer the authority which she possessed
as regent, and even began to despair of her son's safety,

Martiauzzi did not suffer this favourable opportunity of accomplishing his
own designs to pass unimproved, and ventured, while she was in this state of
dejection, to lay before her a proposal, which, at any other time, she would
have rejected with disdaia. He represented how impossible it was for her to
resist Ferdinand's victorious arms ; that, even if the Turks should enable her
to make head against them, she would be far from changing her condition to
the better, and could not consider them as deliverers, but as masters, to whose
commands she must submit ; he conjured her, therefore, as she regarded her

BOOK X.] Ferdinand's designs against maetinuzzi. 411

own dignity, the safety of her son, or the security of Christendom, rather to
give up Transylvania to Ferdinand, and to make over to him her son's title
to the crown of Hungary, than to allow both to be usurped by the inveterate
enemy of the Christian faith. At the same time he promised her, in Ferdi.
nand's name, a compensation for herself, as well as for her son, suitable to

t!- ■' '- nd proportional to the value of what they were to sacrifice. Isa-

I fd Dy some of her adherents, distnistmg others, destitute of

i'r , I surrounded by Castaldo's and Martinuzzi's troops, subscribed

these hard conditions, though with a reluctant hand. Upon this, she surren-
dered such places of strength as were still in her possession, she gave up all
the ensigns of royalty, particidarly a crown of gold, which, as the Hungarians
believed, had descended from heaven, and confen-ed on him who wore it an
undoubted right to the throne. As she could not bear to remain a private
person, in a country where she had once enjoyed sovereign power, she in-
stantly set out with her son for Silesia, in order to take possession of the pria-
cdpalities of Oppelen and Ratibor, the investiture of which Ferdinand had
engaged to ^ant her son, and likewise to bestow one of his daughters upon
him in marnage.

Upon the resignation of the young king, Martinuzzi, and, after his example,
the rest of the Iransylvanian grandees, swore allegiance to Ferdinand; who,
in order to testify his grateful sense of the zeal as well as success with which
that prelate had ser\^ed him, affected to distinguish him by every possible
mark of favour and confidence. He appointed him governor of Transylvania,
with almost unlimited authority; he publicly ordered Castaldo to pay the
greatest deference to his opinion and commands ; he increased his revenues,
which were already veiy great, by new appointments ; he nominated him arch-
bishop of Gran, and prevailed on the pope to raise him to the dignity of a
cardinal. All this ostentation of good-will, however, was void of sincerity,
and calculated to conceal sentiments the most perfectly its reverse. Fer(U-
nand dreaded Martinuzzi's abilities • distrusted ms fidelity ; and foresaw, that,
as his extensive authority enabled him to check any attempt towards circum-
scribing or abolishing the extensive privileges which the Hungarian nobility
possessed, he would stand forth, on every occasion, the guardian of the
liberties of his country, rather than act the part of a viceroy devoted to the
will of his sovereign.

For this reason, he secretly gave it in charge to Castaldo, to watch his
motions, to guard against his designs, and to thwart his measures. But
Martinuzzi, either because he did not perceive that Castaldo was placed as a
spy on his actions, or because he despised Ferdinand's insidious arts, as-
sumed the direction of the war against the Turks with his usual tone of au-
thority, and conducted it with great magnanimity, and no less success. He
recovered some places of which the infidels had taken possession ; he ren-
dered their attempts to reduce others abortive ; and estaolisbed Ferdinand's
authority, not only in Transylvania, but in^ the Bannat of Temeswar, and
several of the countries adjacent. In carrying on these operations, he often
differed in sentiments from Castaldo and his officers, and treated the Turkish
prisoners with a degree not only of humanity, but even of generosity, which
Castaldo loudly condemned. This was represented at Vienna as an artful
method of courting the friendship of the infidels, that, by securing their pro-
tection, he might shake off all dependence upon the sovereign whom he now
acknowledged. Though Martinuzzi, in justification of his own conduct, con-
tended that it was impolitic by unneeessaiy severities to exasperate an enemy
prone to revenge, Castaldo's accusations gained credit with Ferdinand, pre-
possessed already against Martinuzzi, and jealous of everything that could
endanger his own authority in Hungary, in proportion as ne knew it to be

412 ASSASSINATION OF MARTINUZZI. [BOOK X.

precarious and ill-establislied. These suspicions Castaldo confinned and
strengthened, by the intelligence which he transmitted continually to his con*
fidants at Vienna. By misrepresentingwhat was innocent, and putting the
worst construction on what seemed dubious in Martinuzzi's conduct ; by im-
puting to him designs which he never formed, and charging him with actions
of which he was not guilty, he at last convinced Ferdinand, that, in order to
preserve his Hungarian crown, he must cut off that ambitious prelate. But
Jerdinand, foreseeing that it would be dangerous to proceed in the regular
course of law against a subject of such exorbitant power as might enable him
to set his sovereign at defiance, determined to employ violence, in order to
obtain that satisfaction which the laws were too feeble to afford him.

He issued his orders accordingly to Castaldo, who vdllingly undertook that
infamous service. Having communicated the design to some Italian and
Spanish officers whom he could trust, and concert^ with them the plan of
executing it, they entered Martinuzzi's apartment, early one momiug, under
pretence of presentiag to him some dispatches which were to be sent off im-
mediately to Yienna ; and while he perused a paper with attention, one of
their number struck him with his poniard in the throat. The blow was not
mortal. Martinuzzi started up with the intrepidity natural to liim, and
grappling the assassin, threw him to the ground. But the other conspirators
rushmg in, an old man, unarmed and alone, was unable long to sustain such
an unequal conflict, and sunk under the wounds which he received from^ so
many hands. The Transylvanians were restrained by dread of the foreign
troops stationed ia their comitry from rising ia arms, in order to take
vengeance on the murderers of a prelate who had long been the object of
their love as well as veneration. They spoke of the deed, however, with
horror and execration ; and exclaimed against Ferdinand, whom neither grati-
tude for recent and important services, nor reverence for a character consi-
dered as sacred and inviolable among Christians, could restraiu from shedding
the blood of a man, whose only crime was attachment to his native country.
The nobles, detesting the jealous as well as cruel policy of a court, which,
upon un^certain and improbable surmises, had given up a person, no less con-
spicuous for his merit than his rank, to be butchered by assassius, either re-
tired to their own estates, or if they continued with the Austrian army, grew
cold to the service. The Turks, encoui-aged by the death of an enemy,
whose abilities they knew and dreaded, prepared to renew hostilities early
in the spring; and instead of the security^ which Ferdinand had expected
from the removal of Martinuzzi, it was evident that his territories in Hun-
gary were about to be attacked with greater vigour, and defended with less
zeal, than ever.-*

^ By this time, Maurice, having almost finished his intrigues and prepara-
tions, was on the point of declaring his intentions openly, and of taking the
field against the emperor. His first care, after he came to this resolution,
was to disclaim that narrow and bigoted maxim of the confederates of Smal-
kalde, which had led them to shun aR connexion with foreigners. He had
observed how fatal this had been to their cause • and, instructed by their
error, he was as eager to court the protection of Henry II. as they had been
solicitous to prevent the interposition of Francis I. Happily for him, he found
Henry in a disposition to listen to the first overture on his part, and in a
situation which enabled hun to bring the whole force of the French mo-
narchy into action. Henry had long observed the progress of the emperor's

2* Sleid. p. 535. Thuan. lib. ix. pp. 309, &c. Istuanhaffii Hist. Regn. Hungarici,
lib. xvi. pp. 189, &c. M^m. de Ribier, ii. p. 871. Natalis Comitis Historia, lib. iv pp.

m

aga

BOOK xj Maurice's treaty with henry n. 413

arms wdth jealousy, and wished to distinguish himself by entering the lists
against the same enemy, whom it had been the glory of his father's reign to
oppose. He had laid hold on the first opportunity m his power of thwarting
the emperor's designs, by taking the duke of Parma under his protection ;
and hostilities were already begun, not only in that duchy but in Piedmont.
Having terminated the war with England by a peace, no less advantageous to
himself than honourable for his allies the Scots, the restless and enterprising
courage of his nobles was impatient to display itself on some theatre oi
action more conspicuous than the petty operations in Parma or Piedmont
aiforded them.

John de Pienne, bishop of Bayonne, whom Henry had sent into Germany,
under pretence of hiring troops to be employed in Italy, was empowered to
conclude a treaty in form with Maurice and his associates. As it would
liave been very indecent in a king of Prance to have undertaken the de-
fence of the protestant church, the mterests of religion, how much soever they
might be affected by the treaty, were not once mentioned in any of the articles,
""eligious concerns they pretended to commit entirely to the disposition of

ivine Providence ; the only motives assigned for their present confederacy
-gainst _ Charles, were to procure the landgrave liberty, and to prevent the
subversion of the ancient constitution and laws of the German empire. In
order to accomplish these ends, it was agreed that all the contracting parties
should, at the same time, declare war against the emperor; that neither
peace nor truce should be made but by common consent, nor without in-
cluding each of the confederates ; that, in order to guard a^amst the incon-
veniences of anarchy, or of pretensions to ioint command, Maurice should be
acknowledged as head of the German confederates, with absolute authority
in all military affairs ; that Maurice and his associates should bring into the
field seven thousand horse, with a proportional number of infantry ; that,
towards the subsistence of this army, during the first three months of the
war, Henry should contribute two hundred and forty thousand crowns, and
afterwards sixty thousand crowns a month, as long as they continued in arms •
that Henry should attadc the emperor on the side of Lorrain with a powerful
anny : that if it were found requisite to elect a new emperor, such a person
shall DC nominated as shaU be agreeable to the king of Prance." This treaty
was concluded on the fifth of October, some time before Magdeburg sur-
rendered, and the preparatory negotiations were concluded with such pro-
found secrecy, that, of all the princes who afterwards acceded to it.

^■Ld(
^Krl

aurice communicated what he was carrying on to two only, John Albert,
e reigning duke of Mecklenburg, and William of Hesse, the landgrave's

est son. The league itself was no less anxiously concealed, and with such
rtunate care, that no nmiour concerning it reached the ears of the emperor
hr his ministers ; nor do they seem to have conceived the most distant sus-
picion of such a transaction.

At the same time, with a solicitude which was careful to draw some ac-
cession of strength from every quarter, Maurice applied to Edward VI. of
England, and requested, a subsidy of four hundred thousand crowns for the
support of a confederacy formed in defence of the protestant religion. But the
factions which _ prevailed in the EngUsh court during the minority of that
prince, and which deprived both the councils and arms of the nation of their
wonted vigour, left the English ministers neither time nor inclination to
attend to foreign affairs, and prevented Maurice's obtaining that aid, wliich
their zeal for the reformation would have prompted them to grant liim.^

25 RecTioil des Traites, torn. ii. p. 258. Tlman. lib. viii. p. 279.
•''' iiurnt't's Hist, of the liet'orni. vol. ii. Append, p. '37.

414 THE EMPEKOK CONEIRMED IX HIS SECURITY. [BOOK X,

Maurice, however, Jbavinff secured the protection of such a powerful mo-
narch as Henry 11., proceeded with great confidence, but with equal caution,
to execute his plan. As he judged it necessary to make one effort more, in
order to obtain the emperor's consent that the landgrave should be set at
liberty, he sent a solemn embassy, in his own name, and in that of the elector
of Brandenburg, to Inspruck. After resuming, at great length, all the facts
and arguments upon which they founded their claim, and representing, in the
strongest terms, the peculiar engagements which bound them to be so as-
siduous m their solicitations, they renewed the request in behalf of the un-
fortunate prisoner, which they had so often preferred in vain. The elector
palatine, the duke of Wurtemberg, the dukes of Mecklenburg, the duke of
Deuxponts, the marquis of Brandenburg Bareith, and the marquis of Baden,
hj their ambassadors, concurred with them in their suit. Letters were like-
wise delivered to the same effect from the king of Denmark, the duke of
Bavaria, and the dukes of Lunenburg. Even the king of the Komans
joined in this appHcation, being moved with compassion towards the land-

frave in his wretched situation, or influenced, perhaps, by a secret jealousy of
is brother's power and designs, which, since his attempt to alter the order of
succession in the empire, he had come to view with other eyes than formerly,
and dreaded to a great degree.

But Charles, constant to his own system with regard to the landgrave,
eluded a demand urged by such powerful intercessors ; and having declared
that he would communicate his resolution concerning the matter to Maurice
as soon as he arrived at Lispruck, where he was everj^ day expected, he did
not deign to descend into any more particular explication of his intentions.^^
This application, though of no benefit to the landgrave, was of great advan-
tage to Maurice. It served to justify his subsequent proceedings, and to
demonstrate the necessity of employing arms in order to extort that equit-
able concession, which his mediation or entreaty could not obtain. It was
of use, too, to confirm the emi)eror in his security, as both the solemnity of
the application, and the solicitude with which so many princes were drawn
in to enforce it, led him to conclude that they placed all their hopes of re-
storing the landgrave to liberty, m gaining his consent to dismiss him.

[1552.] Maurice employed artifices still more refined to conceal his machi-
nations, to amuse the emperor, and to gain time. He affected to be more
solicitous than ever to find out some expedient for removing the difficulties
with regard to the safe-conduct for the protestant divines appointed to attend
the council, so that they might repair thither without any apprehension of
Ganger. His ambassadors at Trent had frequent conferences concerning thk
matter with the imperial ambassadors in that city, and laid open then* senti-
ments to them with the appearance of the most unreserved confidence. He
was wiUing at last to have it believed, that he thought all differences with
respect to this prehminary article were on the point of being adjusted ; and in
order to give credit to this opinion, he commanded Melancthon, together
with his brethren, to set out on their journey to Trent. At the same time,
he held a close correspondence with the imperial court at Inspruck, and re-
newed, on eveiy occasion, his professions not only of fidelity but of attach-
ment to the emperor. He talked continually of his intention of going to Ins-
pruck in person ; he gave orders to hire a house for him in that city, and ta
fit it up with the greatest dispatch for his reception.^^

But, profoundly skilled as Maurice was in the arts of deceit, and impene^
trable as he thought the veil to be under which he concealed his designSjther«

2^ Sleid. p. 531. Thuan. lib. viii. p. 280.

M Arnoldi Vita Maurit. ap. Menken, ii. p. 1229.

BOOK X.] CIllCUMSTAUCES OONTELBUTING TO DECEIVE HIM. 415

were several tilings in his conduct which alarmed the emperor amidst his

security, and tcuiptcd him freciuently to suspect that he was meditating some-

ihins cxtraordiuarv. As these suspicions took their rise from circumstances

"" iconsiderablc in themselves, or of an ambiguous as well as uncertain nature,

ley were more than counterbalanced by Maurice's address ; and the em-

ror would not lightlv give up his confidence in a man, whom he had once

isted and loaded witli favours. One particular alone seemed to be of such

)nsequence, that he thought it necessary to demand an explanation with

jard to it. The troops, which George of Mecklenburg had taken into

iy after the capitulation of Magdeburg, having fixed their quarters in Thu-

fia, lived at discretion on the lands of the rich ecclesiastics in their

jhboui'hood. Their licence and rapaciousness were intolerable. Such as

It or dreaded theii* exactions complamed loudly to the emperor, and repre-

jnted them as a body of men kept m readiness for some desperate enterprise.

Jut Maui'ice, partly by ex.tenuatmg the enormities of which they had been

'Ity, partly by representing the impossibility of disbanding these troops, or

keeping them to regular discipline, unless the arrears stiS. due to them by
le emperor were paid, either removed the apprehensions which this had
icasioned, or, as Charles was not in a condition to satisfy the demands
these soldiers, obliged him to be silent with regard to the matter.^
The time of action was now approaching. Maurice had privately dispatched
Albert of Brandenburg to Paris, in order to confirm his league with Henry,
and to hasten the march of the French army. He had taken measui'cs to
brmg his own subjects together on the first summons; he had provided for
the securitj[ of Saxony;, wmle he should be absent with the army ; and he held
the troops in Thuringia, on which he chiefly depended, ready to advance on a
moment's \yaniing. All these complicated operations were earned on with-
out being discovered by the court at inspruck, and the emperor remauied there
in perfect tranquillity, busied entirely in comiteractiug the _intri""ues of the
pope's legate at Trent, and in settling the conditions on whicli the protest-
ant di\iQes should be admitted into the council, as if there had not been
any transaction of greater moment in agitation.

Tliis credulous security in a prince, who, by his sagacity in observing the
conduct of aU around him, was commonly led to an excess of distrust, may
seem unaccountable^ and has been imputed to infatuation. But, besides the
exquisite address with which Maurice concealed his intentions, two circum-
stances contributed to the delusion. The gout had returned upon Charles
soon after liis arrival at Inspruck, with an increase of violence ; and liis con-
stitution beiug broken hj such frequent attacks, he was seldom able to exert
his natural vigour of mind, or to _ consider afiaii's with his usual vigilance
and penetration ; and Granvelle, bishop of Arras, his prime minister, though
one of the most subtle statesmen of that or perhaps of any age, was on this
occasion the dupe of his own craft. He entertained such a high opinion of
his own abilities, and held the political talents of the Germans in such con-
tempt, that he despised all the intimations given him concerning Maurice's
eret macliiuations, or the dangerous designs which he was canying on.
'hen the duke of Alva, whose dark suspicious mind harboured many doubts
-^nceniing the elector's sincerity, proposed calling him immediately to court to
answer for his conduct, Granvelle rephed with great scorn, that these appre-

hensions were groundless, and that a drunken German head was too gross to

^^prm any scheme which he could not easily penetrate and baffle. Nor did he
^^Bssume this peremptory tone merely from confidence in his own discernment ;
^He had bribed two of Maurice's ministers, and received from them frequent

^K » Sleid. p. 549. Thnan. p. 339.

I

416 MAtJBldE TAKES UP ARMS. [bOOK X,

and minute infonnation concerning all their master's motions. But through
this very channel, by which he expected to ffain access to all Maurice's
counsels, and even to his thoughts, such intelligence was conveyed to him
as completed his deception. Maurice fortunately discovered the correspon-
dence of the two traitors with Granvelle, but instead of punishing them
for their crime, he dexterously availed himself of their fraud, and turned his
own arts against the bishop. He affected to treat these ministers with
greater confidence than ever ; he admitted them to his consultations ; he
seemed to lay open his heart to them ; and taking care all the while to let
them be acquainted with nothing but what it was his interest should be
known, they transmitted to Inspruck such accounts as possessed Granvelle
with a firm belief of his sincerity as well as good intentions.^" The emperor
himscK, in the fulness of security, was so little moved by a memorial, in the
name of the ecclesiastical electors, admonishing him to be on his guard
against Maurice, that he made light of this intelligence • and his answer to
them abounds with declarations of his entire and confident reliance on the
fidelity as well as attachment of that prince.^'

At last Maurice's preparations were completed, and he had the satisfaction
to find that his intrigues and designs were still unknown. But, though now
readv to take the field, he did not lay aside the arts which he had hitherto
employed ; and by one piece of craft more, he deceived his enemies a few
days longer. ^ He gave out that he was about to begin that journey to In-
spruck of which he had so often talked, and he took one of the ministers
whom Granvelle had bribed,_to attend him thither. After travelling post a few
stages, he pretended to be indisposed by the fatigue of the journey, and dis-
patching the suspected minister to make his apology to the emperor for this
delay, and to assure him that he would be at Inspruck within a few days,
he moimted on horseback, as soon as this spy on his actions was gone, rode
full speed towards Thuringia, joined his army, which amounted to twenty
thousand foot and five thousand horse, and put it immediately in motion.^^

At the same time he published a manifesto, containing his reasons for taking
arms. These were three in number : that he might secure the protestant
religion, which was threatened with immediate destruction; that he might
maintain the constitution and laws of the empire, and save Germany from
being subjected to the dominion of an absolute monarch ; that he might de-
liver the landgrave of Hesse from the miseries of a long and unjust imprison-
ment. By the first, he roused all the favourers of the reformation, a party
formidable by their zeal as well as niunbers, and rendered desperate by op-
pression. By the second, he interested all the friends of Hberty, catholics
no less than protestants, and made it their interest to miite with him in
asserting the rights and privileges common to both. The third, besides the
glory, which he acquired by his zeal to fulfil his engagements to the unhappy
prisoner, was become a cause of general concern, not only from the compassion
which the landgrave's sujfferings excited, but from indignation at the in-
justice and rigour of the emperor's proceedings against him. Together vriih
Maurice's manifesto, another appeared in the name of Albert, marquis of
Brandenburg Culmbach, who had joined him with a body of adventurers, whom
he had drawn together. The same grievances which Maurice had pointed
out are mentioned in it, but with an excess of virulence and animosity suitable
to the character of the prince in whose name it was published.

30 Melvil's Memoirs, fol. edit. p. 12. si Sleid. p. 535.

32 Melv. Mem. p. 13. Tliese circumstances concerning the Saxon ministers whom
Granvelle had bribed, are not mentioned by the German historians ; but as Sir J.ur.ca
Melvil received his information from the elector palatine, and as they are perf'ectlj
agree«i)Ie to the rest of Maurice's conduct the» may be considered as authentic.

BOOK X.J THE EMPEROK's ASTONISHMENT AND CONSTERNATION. 417

The king of France added to these a manifesto in his own name ; in which,
after taking notice of the ancient alliance between the French and German
nations, both descended from the same ancestors, and, after mentioning the
applications which, in consequence of this, some of the most illustrious among
the German princes had made to him for his protection, he declared that he
now took arms to re-establish the ancient constitution of the empire, to deliver
some of its princes from captivity, and to secure the privileges and iade-
peudence of all the members of the Germanic body. In tliis manifesto,
Henry assumed the extraordinary title <di protector of the liberties of Germany ^
and of its captive princes ; and there was engraved on it a cap, the ancient
symbol of freedom, placed between two daggers, in order to intimate to the
Germans, that this blessing was to be acquired and secured by force of arms.**

Maurice had now to act a part entirely new, but his flexible genius was
capable of accommodating itself to every situation. The moment he took arms,
he was as bold and enterprising in the field as he had been cautious and
crafty in the cabiaet. He advanced by rapid marches towards Upper Ger-
many. All the towns in his way opened their gates to him. He reinstated
the magistrates whom the emperor had deposed, and gave possession of the
churches to the protestant ministers whom he had ejected. He directed his
march to Augsburg, and as the imperial garrison, which was too inconsider-
able to think of defending it, retired immediately, he took possession of
that great city, and made the same changes there as in the towns through
which he had passed.^^

No words can express the emperor's astonishment and consternation at
events so unexpected. He saw a great number of the German princes in arms
against him, and the rest either ready to join them, or wishmg success to
their enterprise. He beheld a powerful monarch united with them in close
league, seconding their operations in person, at ilie head of a foimidable army,
while he, through negligence and credulity, wliich exposed hun no less to
scorn than to danger, had neither made, nor was in condition to make, any
effectual provision, either for crushin* his rebellious subjects, or resisting
the invasion of the foreign enemy. Part of his Spanish troops had been
ordered into Hungary against the Turks : the rest had marched back to
Ital}*, upon occasion of the war in the duchy of Parma. The bands of veteran
Germans had been dismissed, because he was not able to pay them, or had
entered into Maurice's service after the siege of Magdeburg ; and he re-
mained at Inspruek with a body of soldiers hardly strong enough to guard his
own person. His treasuiy was as much exhausted as his army was reduced.
He had received no remittances for some time from the New World. He had
forfeited all credit with the merchants of Genoa and Yenice, who refused to
lend 1dm money, though tempted by the offer of exorbitant iuter^est. Thus
Charles, though undoubtedly the most considerable potentate in Christen-
dom, and capable of exerting the greatest strength, his power, notwithstand-
ing the violent attack made upon it, being still unimpaired, found himself
in a situation which rendered him unable to make such a sudden and vigor-
ous effort as the juncture required, and was necessary to have saved him
from the present danger.

In this situation, the emperor placed all his hopes on negotiating ; the only
resoiu'ce of such as are conscious of their own weakness. But thinking it
inconsistent with his dignity to make the first advances to subjects who were
in arms against him^ he avoided that indecorum by employing the mediation
of his brother Ferdmand. Maurice, confiding in nis own talents to conduct

" Slcid. p. 549. Thuan. lib. x. 339. M^m. de Kibier, ii. p. 871.
" Sleid. p. 555. Thuan. p. 342.
3fi

418 SIAURICE ADVANCES TOWARDS INSPRUCK. [BOOK X.

any negotiation in such a manner as to derive advantage from it, and hoping
that, by the appearance of facility in hearkening to the first overture of ac-
coinmodation, he might amuse the emperor, and tempt him to slacken the
activity with which he was now preparing to defend himself, readily agreed
to an interview with Ferdinand, in the town of Lintz in Austria ; and, having
left his army to proceed on its march under the command of the duke of
Mecklenburg, he repaired thither.

Meanwhile the king of Prance punctually fulfilled his engagements to his
allies. He took the field early, with a numerous and weU-appointed army,
and marching directly into Lorrain, Toul and Verdun opened their gates at
liis approach. His forces appeared next before Metz, and that city, by a
fraudulent stratagem of the constable Montmorency, who, having obtained
permission to pass through it with a small guard, introduced as many troops
as were sufficient to overpower the garrison, was likewise seized without
bloodshed. Henry made his entry into all these towns with great pomp ; he
obliged the inhabitants to swear allegiance to him, and annexed those im-
portant conquests to the French monarchv. He left a strong garrison in
Metz. From thence he advanced towards Alsace, in order to attempt new con-
quests, to wliich the success that had hitherto attended his arms invited him.^*

The conference at Lintz did not produce any accommodation. Maurice,
when he consented to it, seems to have had nothing in view but to amuse
the emperor ; for he made such demands both in behalf of his confederates
and their ally, the French king, as he knew would not be accepted by a prince
too haughty to submit, at once, to conditions dictated by an enemy. But,
however firmly Maurice adhered during the negotiation to the interests of his
associates, or how steadily soever he kept in view the objects which had
induced him to take arms, he often professed a strong inclination to terminate
the differences with the emperor in an amicable manner. Encouraged by this
appearance of a pacific disposition, Ferdinand proposed a second interview
at Passau on the twenty-sixth of May, and that a truce should commence on
that day, and continue to the tenth of June, in order to give them leisure for
adjusting aU the points in dispute.

Upon this, Mauiice rejoined liis army on the ninth of May, wliich had now
advanced to Gundelfingen. He put his troops in motion next morning ; and
as sixteen days yet remained for action before the commencement of the truce,
he resolved, during that period, to venture upon an enterprise, the success of
which would be so decisive as to render the negotiations at Passau extremely
short, and entitle him to treat upon his own terms. He foresaw that the
prospect of a cessation of arms, which was to take place so soon, together
with the opinion of his earnestness to re-establish peace, with which he had
artfully amused Ferdinand,' could hardly fail of inspiring the emperor with
such false hopes, that he would naturally oecome remiss, and relapse into some
degree of that security which had already been so fatal to him. Eelying on
tliis conjecture, he marched directly at the head of his army towards Inspruck,
and advanced with the most rapid motion that could be given to so ^reat a
body of troops. On the eighteenth he arrived at Fiessen, a post of great
consequence, at the entrance of the Tyrolese. There he found a body of
eight hundred men, whom the emperor had assembled, strongly intrenched,
in order to oppose his progress. He attacked them instantly with such
violence and impetuosity, that they abandoned their lines precipitately, and
falling back on a second body posted near Ruten, communicated the panic
terror with which they themselves had been seized, to those troops ; so that
they likewise took to flight after a feeble resistance.

» Thuan. p. 349.

BOOK X.] CHABXES FLIES IE.OM, AND MAURICE ENTEB5 Tl. . f CITY. 419

Elated with this success, which exceeded his most sanguine hopes, Maurice
pressed fonvard to Ehrenbcrg, a castle situated on a high and steepy preci-
pice, which commanded the only pass through the mountains. As this fort
had been surrendered to the protestants at the beginning of the Smalkaldic
war, because the garrison was then too weak to defend it, the emperor,
sensible of its importance, had taken care, at this juncture, to thi*ow into it a
body of troops sufficient to maintain it against the greatest army. But a
shepherd, in pursuing a goat which had strayed from his flock, having dis-
covered an unknown path by which it was possible to ascend to the top of
the rock, came with this seasonable piece of intelligence to Maurice. A small
band of chosen soldiers, under the command of George of Mecklenburg, was
instantly ordered to follow this guide. They set out in the evening, and clam-
bering up the rugged track with infinite fatigue as well as danger, they
reached tne summit unperceived ; and, at an hour which liad been agreed on.
when Maurice began the assault on the one side of the castle, they appearea
on the other, ready to scale the walls, which were feeble in that place, be-
cause it had been hitherto deemed inaccessible. The gai-rison, struck with
terror at the sight of an enemy on a quai'ter where they had thought them-
selves perfectly secure, immediately threw down their arms. Maurice, almost
without bloodshed, and, which was of greater consequence to him, without
loss of time, took possession of a place, the reduction of which might have
retarded him long, and have required the utmost efforts of his valour and
skiil."^

Maurice was now only two days' march from Inspruck ; and, without losing
a moment, he ordered his infantry to advance thither, having left his cavalrj^
which was unserviceable in that mountainous country, at Fiessen, to guard
the mouth of the pass. He proposed to advance with such rapidity as to
anticipate any accounts of the loss of Ehrenberg, and to surprise the em-
perorj together with his attendants, in an open town incapable of defence.
J3ut just as his troops began to move, a battalion of mercenaries mutinied,
declaring that they would not stir until they had received the gratuity, which,
according to the custom of that age, they claimed as the recompence due to
them for having taken a place by assault. It was with great difficulty as well
as danger, and not %vithout some considerable loss of time, that Maurice
quietea this insurrection, and prevailed on the soldiers to follow him to a
place where he promised them such rich booty as would be an ample reward
for all their services.

To the delay occasioned bv this unforeseen accident, ttie emperor owed his
safety;. He was informed oi the approaching danger late in the evening, and
knowing that nothing could save him but a speedy flight, he instantly left
Inspruck, without regarding the darkness of the night, or the violence of the
rani which happened to fall at that time ; and, notwithstanding the debility
occasioned by the gout, which rendered him unable to bear any motion but
that of a litter, he travelled by the light of torches, taking his way over the
Alps by roads almost impassaole. His courtiers ana attendants followed him
with equal precipitation, some of them on such horses as they could hastily
procui-e, maiiy of them on foot, and all in the utmost confusion. In this
miserable plight, very unlike the pomp with which Charles had appeared
dui'ing the five preceding years as the c9nqucror of Germany, he arrived at
Icngih with his dejected train at Villach in Carinthia, and scai'cely thought
himself secure even in that remote, inaccessible comer.

Maurico entered Inspruck a few hours after the emperor and his attendants
had left it ; and enraged that the prey should escape out of his hands whea

«« Arnoldi Vita Slaurit. p. 123.
2e2

i30 DECREES OF THE COUNCIL Or TKENT. [BOOK X.

he was just ready to seize it, he pursued them some miles ; but finding it im-
possible to overtake persons to whom their fear gave speed, he returned to
town, and abandoned all the emperor's baggage, together with that of his
ministers, to be plundered by the soldiers ; while he preserved untouched
eveiything belonging to the king of the Romans, either because he had formed
dome friendly connexion with that prince, or because he wished to have it
believed that such a connexion subsisted between them. As there now re-
mained only three days to the commencement of the truce (with such nicety
had Maurice calculated his operations), he set out for Passau, that he might
meet Ferdinand on the day appointed.

Before Charles left Inspruck, he withdrew the guards placed on the de-
graded elector of Saxony, whom, during five years, he had carried about with
him as a prisoner ; and set him entirely at liberty, either ^yith an intention
to embarrass Maurice by letting loose a rival who might dispute his title to
his dominions and dignity, or from a sense of the indecency ol detaining him
a prisoner, while he himself ran the risk of being deprived of his own. liberty.
But that prince, seeing no other way of escaping than that which the emperor
took, and abhorring the thoughts of falling into the hands of a kinsman
whom he justly considered as the author of all his misfortunes, chose rather
to accompany Charles in his flight, and to expect the final decision of his fate
from the treaty which was now approaching.

These were not the only effects which Maurice's operations produced. It
was no sooner known at Trent that he had taken arms, than a general con-
sternation seized the fathers of the council. The German prelates immedi-
ately returned home, that they might provide for the safety of their respective
territories. The rest were extremely impatient to be gone ; and the legate,
who had hitherto disappointed all the endeavours of the imperial ambassadors
to procure an audience in the council for the protestant divmes, laid hold
with joy on such a plausible pretext for dismissmg an assembly which he
had found it so difficult to govern. In a congregation held on the twenty-
eighth of April, a decree was issued proroguing the council during two years,
and appointing it to meet at the expiration of that time, if peace were then
re-established in Europe," This prorogation, however, continued no less
than ten years ; and the proceedings of the council, when re-assembled in
the year one thousand five hundred and sixty-two, fall not within the period
prescribed to this historjr.

The convocation of tliis assembly had been passionately desired by aU the
states and princes in Christendom, who, from the wisdom as well as piety of
prelates representing the whole body of the faithful, expected some charitable
and efficacious endeavours towards composkig the dissensions which luihappily
had arisen in the church. But the several popes by whose authority it was
called had other objects in view. They exerted all their P9wer or policy to
attain these ; and by the abilities as well as address of their legates, by the
ignorance of many of the prelates, and by the servihty of the indigent Italian
bishops, acquired such influence in the council, that they dictated aU its de-
crees, and framed them, not with an intention to restore unity and concord
to the church, but to establish their owii dominion, or to confinn those tenets,
upon which they imagined that dominion to be founded. Doctrmes, which
had hitherto been admitted upon the credit of tradition alone, and received
with some latitude of interpretation, were defined with a scrupulous nicety,
and confirmed by the sanction of autnority. Rites, which had fonnelv been
observed only in deference to custom supposed to be ancient, were estaDlished
by the decrees of the church, and declared to be essential pai'ts of its worship.

" F. Paul, p. 353.

BOOK X,] HEKRT FAILS TO STJKPRISE STRASBURG. 421

The breach, instead of being closed, was widened, and made irreparable. In
place of any attempt to reconcile the contending parties, a line was di-awn
with such studied accuracy as ascertained and marked out the distinction
between them. This still serves to keep them at a distance, and, without
some signal interposition of Divine Providence, must render the separation
perpetual.

Our knowledge of the proceedm^s of this assembly is derived from three
different authors. Father Paul, of Venice, wrote his history of the Council of
Ti«nt while the memoiy of what had passed there was recent, and some who
had been members of it were still aUve. He has exposed the intrigues and
artifices by wliich it was conducted, with a freedom and severity which har
given a deep M'ound to the credit of the council. He has described its delibe*-
rations, and explained its decrees, with such perspicuity and depth of thought,
with such various erudition, and such force of reason, as have justly entitled
his work to be placed among the most admired historical compositions.
About half a century thereafter, the Jesuit Pallavicini published his history of
the council, in opposition to that of Father Paul, and by employing all the
force of an acute and refining genius to invalidate the credit or to confute the
reasonings of liis antagonist, he labours to prove, by artful apologies for the
proceedings of the council, and subtile interpretations of its decrees, that it
deliberated with impartiality, and decided with judgment as well as candour.
Vargas, a Spanish doctor of laws, who was appointed to attend the imperial
ambassadors at Trent, sent the bishop of An-as a regular account of the trans-
actions there, explaining all the arts which the legate employed to influence or
overawe the council. His letters have been published, in which he inveighs
against the papal court with that asperity of censure which was natural to a
man whose situation enabled him to observe its iatrigues thoroughly, and who
was obliged to exert all his attention and talents in order to disappoint them.
But whichsoever of these authors an iiitelligent person takes for his guide, in
fornung a judgment concerning the spirit oi the council, he must discover so
much ambition as well as artifice among some of the members, so much igno-
rance and corruption among others ; he must observe such a large infusion of
human policy and passions, mingled with such a scanty portion of that sim-
pHcity of heart, sanctity of manners, and love of truth, which alone qualify
men to detennine what doctrines are worthy of God, and what worship is
acceptable to him ; that he will find it no easy matter to believe that any ex-
traordinary influence of the Holy Ghost hovered over this assembly, and dic-
tated its decrees.

While Maurice was employed in negotiating with the king of the Romans
at Lintz, or in making war on the emperor in the Tyrol, the French king had
advanced into Alsace as far as Strasburg ; and having demanded leave of the
senate to march through the city, he hoped that, by repeating the same fraud
which he had practised at Metz, he might render himself master of the place,
and by that means secure a passage over the Rhine into the heart of Ger-
many. But the Strasbur^hers, instructed and put on their guard by the
credulity and misfortune ot their neighbours, shut their gates ; and, having
assembled a garrison of five thousand soldiers, repaired their fortifications,
razed the houses m their suburbs, and determined to defend themselves to the
utmost. At the same time they sent a deputation of their most respectable
citizens to the king, in order to divert him from makmg any hostile attempt
upon them. The electors of Treves and Cologne, the duke of Cleves, and
other princes in the neighbourhood, interposed in their behalf: beseeching
Henry that he Avould not forget so soon the title which he had generously
assumed ; and, instead of being the dehverer of Germany, become its op-
pressor, rhe Swiss cantons seconded them with zeal, soliciting Henr to

422 OPEKATIONS oe ALBERT Of BKANDElJrBVRG. [BOOK X.

spare a city which had long been connected with their comnnmity in friend-
snip and alliance.

Powerful as this united intercession was, it would not have prevailed on
Henry to forego a prize of so much value, if he had been in a condition to
have seized it. But, in that age, the method of subsisting numerous armies
at a distance from the frontiers of their own country, was imperfectly, under-
stood ; and neither the revenues of princes, nor their experience in the art
of war, were equal to the great and complicated efforts which such an
undertaking required. The French, though not far removed from their own
frontier, began already to suffer from scarcity of provisions, and had no
sufficient magazines collected to support them durmg a siege which must
necessarily have been of great length.^ At the same time, the queen of
Hungary, governess of tlie Low Countries, had assembled a considerable body
of troops, which, under the command of Martin de Rossem, laid waste
Champagne, and threatened the adjacent provinces of France. These con-
curring circumstances obliged the lung, though with reluctance, to abandon
the enterprise. But being willing to acquire some merit with his aUies by
this retreat, which he could not avoid, he pretended to tlie Swiss that he had
taken the resolution merely in compliance with their request f^ and then,
after giving orders that all the horses in his army should be led to drink in
the Rhine, as a proof of his having pushed his conquest so far, he marched
back towards Champagne.

While the French king and the main army of the confederates were thus
employed, Albert of Brandenburg was entrusted with the command of a
separate body of eight thousand men, consisting chiefly of mercenaries who
had resorted to his standard, rather from the hope of plunder than the ex-
pectation of regular pay. That prince seeing himself at the head of such a
number of desperate adventurers, ready to foUow wherever he sliould lead
them, soon began to disdain a state of subordination, and to form such extra-
vagant schemes of aggrandizing himself as seldom occur even to ambitious
minds, unless when civil war or violent factions roused them to bold exer-
tions, by alluring them with immediate hopes of success. Full of these as-
pu'ing thoughts, Albert made war in a mamier very different from the other
confederates. He endeavoured to spread the ten-or of his arms by the ra-
pidity of his motions, as well as the extent and rigour of his devastations ;
he exacted contributions wherever he came, in order to amass such a sum
of money as would put it in his power to keep his army together ; he laboured
to get possession of Nuremburg, XJlm, or some other of the free cities in
Upper Germany, in which, as a capital, he might fix the seat of his power.
But, finding these cities on their guard, and in a condition to resist his at-
tacks, he turned all his rage against the popish ecclesiastics, whose teni-
tories he plundered with such wanton and merciless barbarity, as gave them
a yery unfavourable impression of the spirit of that reformation in religion,
with zeal for which he pretended to be animated. The bishops of Bamberg
and Wurzburg, by their situation, lay particularly exposed to his ravages : he
obliged the former to transfer to him, in perpetuity, almost one-half of his ex-
tensive diocese ; and compelled the latter to advance a great sum of money,
in order to save his territories from ruin and desolation. During all those
wild salHes, Albert paid no regard either to Maurice's orders, whose com-
mands as generahssimo of the league he had engaged to obey, or to the re-
monstrances of the other confederates ; and manifestly discovered that he
attended only to his own private emolument, without any soHcitude about

« Thuan pp. 351, 352 «» Sleid. p. 557. Bran tome, torn. vii. p. 39.

BOOK. X.J THE NEGOTIATIONS AT PASSAU. 423

the common cause, or the general objects which had induced them to take
arms.''°

Maurice having ordered liis arniy to march back into Bavaria, and having
published a proclamation enjoining the Lutheran clergy and instructors of
youth to resume the exercise of their functions in all the cities, schools, and
universities, from which they had been ejected, met Ferdinand at Passau on
the twenty-sixth day of May. As matters of the greatest consequence to the
future peace and independence of the empii-e were to be settled in this con-
gress, the eyes of all Germany were fixed upon it. Besides Ferdinand and
the imperial ambassadors, the duke of Bavaria, the bishops of Saltzburg
and iVichstadt, the ministers of all the electors, together with deputies from
most of the considerable princes and free cities, resorted to Passau. Maurice,
in the name of his associates, and the king of the ilomans as the emperor's
representative, opened the negotiation. The princes who were present,
together with the deputies of such as were absent, acted as intercessors or
mediators between them.

Maurice, in a long discourse, explained the motives of his own conduct.
After having enumerated all the unconstitutional and oppressive acts of
the emperor's administration, he, agreeably to the manifesto which he had
published when he took arms agamst him, limited his demands to three
articles : that the landgrave of Hesse should be immediately set at liberty ;
that the grievances in the civil government of the empire should be re-
dressed ; and that the protestants should be allowed . tlie public exercise
of their religion without molestation. Ferdinand and_ the miperial ambas-
sadors discovering their unwillingness to gratify him with regard to all these
points, the mediators wrote a joint letter to the emperor, beseeching him to
deliver Germany from the calamities of a civil war, by giving such satisfac-
tion to Maurice and liis party as might induce them to lay down their arms ;
and, at the same time, they prevailed upon Maurice to grant a prolongation
of the truce for a short tuaae, during which they undertook to procure the
emperor's final answer to his demands. This request was presented to the
emperor in the name of all the princes of the empire, popish as well as pro-
testant, in the name of such as had lent a helping hand to forward his am-
bitious schemes, as well as of those who had viewed the progress of his power
with jealousy and dread. _ The uncommon aud cordial unanimity with which
they concuiTed at tliis juncture in enforcing Maurice's demands, and in
reconunending peace, flowed from different causes. Such as were most
attached to the Koman catholic church could not help observing that the
protestant confederates were at the head of a numerous airmy, while the
emperor was but just beginning to provide for his own defence. They fore-
saw that great efforts would be required of them and would be necessary
on their part, in order to cope with enemies who had been allowed to get the
start so tar, and to attain such formidable power. Experience had taught
them that the fruit of all these efforts would be reaped by the emperor alone ;
and the more complete any victory proved which they should gam^ the faster
would they bind their own fetters, and render them the more mtolerable.
These reflections made them cautious how they contributed a second time by
their indiscreet zeal to put the emperor in possession of power which would
be fatal to the liberties of their country. Notwithstanding the intolerant spirit
of bigotry in that age, they chose rather that the protestants shoidd acquire
that security for then: religion which they demanded, than, by assisting
Charles to oppress them, to give such additional force to the imperial

«• Skid. p. 561. Thuan. p. 857.

424 STATE OF PAHTIES IN GERMANY. [BOOK X.

prerogative as would overturn the constitution of the empire. To all
these considerations, the dread of seeing Germany laid waste by a civil war
added new force. Many states of the empire already felt the destructive
rage of Albert's arms ; others dreaded it ; and all wished for an accom-
modation between the emperor and Maurice, which they hoped would save
them from that cruel scourge.

Such were the reasons that induced so many princes^ notwithstanding the
variety of their pohticd interests, and the opposition m their religious sen-
timents, to unite in recommending to the emperor an accommodation with
Maurice, not only as a salutary^ but as a necessary measure. The motives
which prompted Charles to desne it were not fewer, or of less weight. He
was perfectly sensible of the superiority which the confederates had acquired
through his own negligence ; and he now felt the insufficiency of his own
resources to oppose them. His Spanish subjects, disgusted at his long absence,
and wearv of endless wars which were of little benefit to their country, refused
to furnish him with any considerable supply either of men or money ; and
although, by his address or importunity, he might have hoped to draw from
them at last more effectual aid, that he knew was too distant to be of any
service in the present exigency of his affairs. His treasury was drained ; his
veteran forces were dispersed or disbanded ; and he could not depend much
either on the fidehty or courage of the new-levied soldiers whom he was
collecting. There was no hope of repeating with success the same artifices
which had weakened and ruined the Smalkaldic league. As the end at which
he aimed was now known, he could no longer employ the specious pretexts
which had for merly concealed his ambitious designs. Every prince in Ger-
many was alarmed and on liis guard; and it was vain to think of blinding
them a second time to such a degree as to make one part of them instru-
ments to enslave the other. The spirit of a confederacy, whereof Maurice wa3
the head, experience had taught him to be very different from that of the
league of Smalkalde; and from what he had already felt, he had no reason
to flatter himself that its counsels would be as irresolute, or its efforts as
timid and feeble. If he should resolve on continuing the war, he might be
assured that the most considerable states in Germany would take part in it
against him • and a dubious neutrality was the utmost he could expect from
the rest. While the confederates found full employment for his arms in one
quarter, the king of France would seize the favourable opportunity and push
on his operations in another with almost certam success. That monarch had
already made conquests in the empire, which Charles was no less eager to
recover than impatient to be revenged on him for aiding his malecontent
subjects. Though Hemy had now retired from the banks of the Rhine, he
had only varied the scene of hostilities, having invaded the Low Countries
with all his forces. The Turks, roused by the solicitations of the French
king, as well as stimulated by resentment against Ferdinand for having
violated the truce in Hungary, had prepared a powerful fleet to ravage the
coasts of Naples and Sicily, which he had left almost defenceless, by calling
thence the greatest part of the regular troops to join the army which he was
now assembling.

Ferdinand, who went in person to ViUach, in order to lay before the em-
peror the result of the comerences at Passau, had likewise reasons peculiar
to himself for desiring an accommodation. These prompted him to second,
with the greatest earnestness, the arguments wliicli the princes assembled
there had employed in recommending it. He had observed, not without
secret satisfaction, the fatal blow that had been given to the despotic
power which his brother had usurped in the empire. He was extremely
solicitous to prevent Charles from recovering his former superiority, as he

BOOK X.J MAURICE RENEWS HOSTILITIES. 4S5

foresaw that ambitious prince would immediately resume, with increased
eagerness, and with a better chance of success, his favourite scheme of
transmitting that power to his son, by excluding his brother from the right
of succession to the imperial throne. On this account he was willing to
contribute towards circumscribmg the imperial authority, in order to render
his own possession of it certain. Besides, Solyman, exasperated at the loss
of Transylvania, and still more at the fraudulent arts bv which it had been
seized, had ordered into the field an army of a hundred thousand men.
which having defeated a great body of Ferdinand's troops, and taken several
places of importance, threatened not only to complete the conciuest of the
province, but to drive them out of that part of Hungary which was still
subject to liis jurisdiction. He was unable to resist such a mighty enemy;
the emperor, wlule engaged in a domestic war, could afford Jbim no aid ; and
lie conld not even hope to draw from Germany the cpntingent, either of
troops or money, usually furnished to repel the invasions of the infidels.
Maurice, having observed Terdinand's perplexity with regard to this last
point, had offered, if peace were re-established on a secure foundation, that
he would march in person with his troops into Hungary against the Turks.
Such was the effect of this well-timed proposal, that Ferdinand, destitute of
every other prospect of relief, became the most zealous advocate whom the
confederates could have employed to urge their claims, and there was hardly
anything that they could have demanded which he would not have chosen to
grant, rather than have retarded a pacification,to which he trusted as the only
means of saving his Hungarian crown.

When so many causes conspired in rendering an accommodation eligible, it
might have been expected that it would have taken place immediately. But
the inflexibility of the emperor's temper, together with his unwillingness at
once to relinquish objects wliich he had long pursued with such earnestness
and assiduity, counterbalanced, for some time, the force of all the motives
which disposed him to peace, and not only put that event at a distance, but
seemed to render it uncertain. When Maurice's demands, together with the
letter of the mediators at Passau, were presented to him, he peremptorily re-
fused to redress the grievances which were pointed out, nor would he agree
to any stipulati9n for the immediate security of the protestant religion, but
proposed referring both these to the determination of a futm*e diet. On his
part, he required that instant reparation should be made to all who, during
the present war, had suffered either by the licentiousness of the confederate
troops, or the exactions of their leaders.

M^aurice, who was well acquainted with the emperor's arts, immediately
concluded that he had nothing in view by these overtures but to amuse and
deceive; and, therefore, without listening to Ferdinand's entreaties, he left
Passau abruptly, and joining his troops, which were encamped at Mergen-
theim, a city in Franconia, belonging to the knights of the Teutonic order,
he put them in motion, and renewed hostilities. As three thousand men in
the emperor's pay haa thrown themselves into Frankfort on the Maine, and
might from thence invest the neighbouring country of Hesse, he marched to-
wards that city, and laid siege to it in form. The briskness of this enterprise,
and the vigour with which Maurice carried on his approaches against the
town, gave such an alarm to the emperor, as disnosed him to lend a more
favoui-able ear to Ferdinand's arguments in behalf of an accommodation.
Finn and haughty as his nature was, he found it necessary to bend, and sig-
nified his wiLLiugness to make concessions on his part, if ^laurice, in return,
would abate somewhat of the rigour of his demands. Ferdinand, as soon as
he perceived that his brother bepn to vield, did not desist from his impor-
tumlies, until he prevailed upon him to declare what was the utmost that he

426 THE TREATY OP PASSAU. pBOOK X.

would grant for the security of the confederates. Having gained this difficult
point, ne instantly despatched a messenger to Mauiice's camp, and, impart-
ing to him the emperor's final resolution, conjured him not to frustrate his
endeavours for the re-establishment of peace ; or by an unseasonable obstinacy
on his side, to disappoint the wishes of all Germany for that salutary event.

Maurice, notwithstanding the prosperous situation of his affairs, was
strongly inclined to listen to this advice. The emperor, though overreached
and surprised, had now begun to assemble troops, and, however slow Ms
motions might be, wliile the first effects of his consternation remained, he
was sensible that Charles must at last act with vigour proportional to the
extent of his power and temtories, and lead into Gennany an army for-
midable by its numbers, and still more by the terror of his name, as well as
the remembrance of his past victories. He could scarcely hope that a con-
federacy, composed of so many members, would continue to operate with
union and perseverance sufficient to resist the consistent and well-directed
efforts of an anny, at the absolute disposal of a leader accustomed to com-
mand and to conquer. He felt already, although he had not hitherto ex-
perienced the shock of any adverse event, that he himseK was the head of a
oisjointed body. He saw, iCrom the example of Albert of Brandenburg, how
difficult it would be, with all his address and credit, to prevent any particular
member from detaching himself from the whole, and how impossible to recal
him to his proper rank and subordination. This filled hun with apprehensions
for the common cause. Another consideration gave him no less disquiet with
regard to his own particular interests. By setting at liberty the degraded
elector, and by repealing the act by which that prince was deprived of his
hereditary honours and dominions, the emperor had it in his power to wound
hiin in the most tender part. The efforts of a prince beloved by his ancient
subjects, and revered by all the protestant party, in order to recover what had
been unjustly taken from him, could hardly have failed of exciting commotions
in Saxony, which would endanger all that he had acquired at the expense of
so much dissimulation and artifice. It was no less in the emperor's power
to render vain all the solicitations of the confederates in behalf of the land-
grave. He had only to add one act of violence more to the injustice and
rigour with which he had already treated him ; and he had accordingly
threatened the sons of that unfortunate piince, that if they persisted in their
present enterprise, instead of seeing their father restored to liberty, they
should hear of his having suffered the punishment which his rebellion had
merited."

Havin* deliberated upon all these points with his associates, Maurice
thought it more prudent to accept of the conditions offered, though less
advantageous than those which he had proposed, than again to commit all to
the doubtful issue of war." He repaired forth-^ith to Passau, and signed
the treaty of peace ; of which the chief articles were, That, before the twelfth
day of August, the confederates shall lay down their arms, and disband their
forces ; that, on or before that day, the landgrave shall be set at liberty, and
conveyed in safety to his castle of Rheinfels ; that a diet shall be held within
six months, in order to deliberate concerning the most proper and effectual
method of preventing for the future all disputes and dissensions about re-
ligion ; that, in the meantime, neither the emperor nor any other prince shall,
upon any pretext whatever, offer any injury or violence to such as adhered to
the Confession of Augsburg, but allow them to enjoy the free and undisturbed
exercise of their religion ; that, in return, the protestants shall not molest the

*i Sleid. p. 571. *' Sleid. Hist. pp. 563, &c. Thuan. Kb. z. pp. 859, &c

BOOK X.] THE TREATY OF PA8SAU. 427

catholics either m the exercise of their ecclesiastical jurisdictiou, or in per-
forming their religious ceremonies ; that the imperial chamber shall administer
justice impartially to persons of both parties, and protestants to be admitted
indiscriminately with the catholics to sit as judges in that court ; that if the
next diet should not be able to terminate the disputes with regard to religion,
the stipulations in the present treaty in behalf of the protestants shall continue
for ever in full force and vigour ; that none of the confederates shall be liable
to any action on account of what had happened durin.^ the course of the war ;
that the consideration of those encroachments which had been made, as
Maurice pretended, upon the constitution and liberties of the empire, shall be
remitted to the approaching diet ; that Albert of Brandenburg shall be com-
prehended in the treaty, provided he shall accede to it, and disoand his forces
before the twelfth of Auffust.**^

Such was the memorable treaty of Passau, that overturned the vast fabric,
in erecting which Charles had employed so many years, and had exerted the
utmost efibrts of his power and policy ; that annulled all his regulations with
regard to religion, defeated all his hopes of rendering the imperial authority
absolute and hereditary in his family, and established the protestant church,
•which had hitherto subsisted precariously in Germany, through connivance or
by expedients, upon a firm and secure basis. Maurice reaped all the glory
of having concerted and completed this unexpected revolution. It is a sin-
gular circumstance that the reformation should be indebted, for its security
and full establishment in Germany, to the same hand which had brought it to
the brink of destiniction, and that both events should have been accomplished
by the same arts of dissimulation. The ends, however, which Maurice had in
view at those different junctui-es, seem to have been more attended to than
the means by which he attained them ; and he was now as universally extolled
for his zeal and public spirit as he had lately been condemned for his indif-
ference and interested policy. It is no less worthy of obsei'vation, that the
French kin^, a monarch zealous for the Catholic faith, should employ his
power in order to protect and maintain the reformation in the empire, at the
very time when he was persecuting his own protestant subjects with aU the
fierceness of bigotry, and that the league for this purpose, which proved so
fatal to the Komish church, should be negotiated and signed by a Roman
Catholic bishop. _ So wonderfully doth the wisdom of God superintend and
regulate the caprice of human passions, and render them subservient towards
the accomphshment of his own purposes.

Little attention was paid to the interests of the French king during the
negotiations at Passau. Maurice and his associates having gained what they
had in view, discovered no great solicitude about an ally, whom, perhaps, they
reckoned to be ovei-paid for the assistance which he had given them, by his
acquisitions in Lorram. A short clause which they procured to be inserted
in the treaty, importing that ihe king of Prance might communicate to the
confederates* his particular pretensions or causes of hostility, which they would
lay before the emperor, was the only sign that they gave oif remembering how
much they had been indebted to him for their success. Hemy experienced
the same treatment which every prince who lends his aid to the authors of a
civil war may expect. As soon as the rage of faction began to subside, and
any prospect of accommodation to open, his services were forgotten, ana his
associates made a merit with their sovereign of the ingi-atitude with which
they abandoned their protector. But how much soever Hemy mi^ht be
enraged at the perfidy of his allies, or at the impatience with which they

«» Recueil des Traits, ii. p. 261.

42S MAURICE MARCHES AGAINST THE TURKS. [BOOK XL

hastened to make their peace with the emperor at his expense, he was per-
fectly sensible that it was more his interest to keep well with the Germanic
Dody than to resent the indignities offered him by auv particular members of
it. For that reason he dismissed the hostages whicli ne had received from
Maurice and his associates, and affected to talk in the same strain as formerly
concerning his zeal for maintaining the ancient constitution and liberties of
"the empire.

BOOK XI.

Maurice marches against the Turks — The Landgrave and the Elector recover their Liberty
— The Emperor makes War upon France — The Siege of Metz — Losses of the Emperor
in Italy — Descent of the Turks upon the Kingdom of Naples — Confederacy under the
lead of Maurice against Albert of Brandenburg — ^ilaurice is slain in Battle, but Albert
is defeated, and afterwards driven out of Germany — Success of the Emperor in the
Netherlands — His Losses m Hungary and Italy — The Family Troubles of Solyman —
The Ambition of his Mistress Eoxalana, and the Fate of his Son Mustapha — Marriage
of Philip with JIary of England — Efforts of Mary to overthrow Protestantism — Henry
conducts a vigorous Campaign against the Emperor — Cosmo de' Medici's Schemes — The
French under Strozzi defeated — Siege of Siena — Retreat of the Duke of Alva from
Piedmont — Conspiracy to betray Metz discovered — Diet at Augsburg — Death of Pope
Julius — Charles endeavours anew to acquire the Imperial Crown for his Son Phihp —
The Peace of Religion established — Pope Marcellus II. — Pope Paul IV., and the am-
Mtious Schemes of his Nephews — The Emperor abdicates in favour of his Son Philip —
Peace between France and Spain — The Pope attempts to rekindle War — The Duke of
Alva takes the Field against him — A Truce between the Pope and Philip.

[1552.] As soon as the treaty of Passau was signed, Maurice, in conse-
quence of his engagements with Ferdinand, marched into Hungary at the
head of twenty thousand men; but the great superiority of the Turkish
armies, the frequent mutinies both of the Spanish and German soldiers, oc-
casioned by their want of pay, together with the dissensions between Maurice
and Castaldo, who was piqued at being obliged to resign the chief command
to him, prevented his performing anytliing in that country suitable to his
former fame, or of great benefit to the king of the Romans.'

When Maurice set out for Hungary, the prince of Hesse parted from liin>
with the forces under his command, and marched back into nis own country,
that he might be ready to receive his father upon his return, and give up to
him the reins of govenmient which he had held during his absence. But for-
tune was not yet weary of persecuting the landgrave. A battalion of merce-
nary troops, which had been in the pay of Hesse, being seduced by Reifen-
berg, then: colonel, a soldier of fortune, ready to engage in any enterprise,
secretly withdrew from the young prince as he was marching homewards, ana
joined Albert of Brandenburg, who still continued in arms against the em-

f)eror refusing to be included in the treaty of Passau. Unhappily for the
andgrave, an account of this reached the Netherlands just as ne was dis-
missed from the citadel of Mechlin, where he had been confined, but before
he had got beyond the frontiers of that country. The queen of Hungary,

1 Istuanhaffii Hist. Hangar, p. 288. Thuan. lib. x. p. 37L

BOOK XI.] CHARLES*S DESIGNS AGAINST FBANCE. 429

who governed there in her brother's name, iiicensed at such an open violation
of the treaty to which he owed his liberty, issued orders to arrest him, and
committed him again into the custody of the same Spanish captain who had
guarded him for five j-ears with the most severe vigilance. Philij) beheld
all the horrors of his miprisonment renewed; and his spirits subsiding in
the same proportion as they had risen during the short interval in which he
had enjoyed liberty, he sunk into despair, and believed himself to be doomed to
perpetual captivity. Bat the matter being so explained to the emperor, as
luUy satisfied him that the revolt of Reifenberg's mercenaries could be im-
puted neither to the land^ave nor to his son^ he gave orders for his release,
and Philip at last obtained the liberty for which he had so long languished.^
But though he recovered his freedom, and was reinstated in his dominions,
his sulfermgs seeni to have broken the vigour, and to have extinguished the
activity of his mind. From being the boldest as well as most enterprising
prince in the empire, he became the most timid and cautious, and passed the
remainder of his days in a pacific indolence.

The degraded elector ot Saxony likewise procured his liberty in conse-
quence of the treaty of Passau. The emperor having been obhged to re-
linquish all his schemes for extirpating the protestant religion, had no longer
any motive for detaining him a prisoner • and being extremely soHcitous at that
juncture to recover the confidence and good-will of the Germans, whose as-
sistance was essential to the success of the enterprise which he meditated
against the king of Prance, he, among other expedients for that purpose,
thought of releasing from imprisonment a prince whose merit entitled him no
less to esteem, than his sufferings rendered him the object of compassion.
John Prederick took possession, accordingly, of that part of his territories
which had been reserved for him when Maurice was invested with the elec-
toral di§:nity. As ia this situation he continued to display the same virtuous
magnanimity for wMch he had been conspicuous in a more prosperous and
splendid state, and which he had retained amidst all his suilerings, he
maintained during the remainder of his life that high reputation to wMch he
had so just a title.

The loss of Metz, Toul, and Verdun, had made a deep impression on the
emperor. Accustomed to terminate all his operations against Prance with
advantage to himself, he thought that it nearly concenied his honour not to
allow Henry the superiority in this war, or to sutler his own administration
to be stained with the infamy of having permitted territories of such conse-
Guence to be dismembered from the empire. Tliis was no less a point of interest
tlian of honour. As the frontier of Champagne was more naked, and lay
more exposed than that of any province in Prance, Charles had frequently
during his wars with that kingdom, made inroads upon that quarter with
great success and effect ; but if Henry were allowed to retaiai his late con-
quests, Prance would gain such a formidable barrier on that side, as to be
altogether secure, where formerly she had been weakest. On the other hand,
the empire had now lost as much, in point of security, as Prance had ac-
quii-ed ; and, being stripped of the defence which those cities aftbrded it, lay
open to be invaded on a quarter where all the towns, having been hitherto
considered as interior, and remote from any enemy, were but slightly fortified.
These considerations determined Charles to attempt recovering the three
towns of which Henry had made himself master ; and the preparations which
he had made against Maurice and his associates, enabled him to carry liis
resolution into immediate execution.

As soon, then, as the peace was concluded at Passau, he left his inglorious

» Sleid. p. 573. Belcarii Commeut. p. 834,

430 THE DUKE OF GUISE. [bOOK. XI.

retreat at Yillacn, and advanced to Augsburg, at the liead of a consider-
able body of Germans which he had levied, together with all the troops
which he had drawn out of Italy and Spain. To these he added several bat-
talions which, having been in the pay of the confederates, entered into his
service when dismissed by them ; ani he prevailed likewise on some princes
of the enapire to join him with their vassals. In order to conceal the desti-
nation of this formidable army, and to guard against alarming the French
king, so as to put him on preparing for the defence of his late conquests, he
gave out that he was to march forthwith into Hungary, in order to second
Maurice in his operations against the infidels. When he began to advance
towards the llhine, and could no longer employ that pretext, he tried a new
artifice, and spread a report that he took this route in order to chastise Albert
of Brandenburg, whose cruel exactions in that part of the empire called
loudly for his interposition to check them.

But the Erench, naving got acquainted at last with arts by which they had
been so often deceived, viewed all Charles's motions with distrust. Henry
immediately discerned the true object of his vast preparations, and resolved
to defend the important conquests which he had gained with vigour equal
to that with which they were about to be attacked. As he foresaw that the
whole weight of the war would be turned against Metz, by whose fate that
of Toul and Verdun would be determined, lie nominated Erancis of Lorrain,
duke of Guise, to take the command in that city during the siege, the issue
of which would equally affect the honour and interest of his country. His
choice could not have fallen upon any person more v/orthy of that trust.
The duke of Guise possessed in a liigh degree all the talents of courage,
sagacity, and presence of mind, which render men eminent in military com-
mand. ^ He was largely endowed with that magnanimity of soul which de-
lights in bold enterprises, and aspires to fame by splendid and extraordinary
actions. He repaired with joy to the dangerous station assigned liim, as to
a theatre on wliich he might display his great qualities under the immediate
eye of his countrymen, all ready to applaud him. The martial genius of the
!Frencli nobility in that age, which considered it as the greatest reproach to
remain inactive when there was any opportunity of signalizing their courage,
prompted great numbers to follow a leader who was the darling as weU the
pattern of every one that courted military fame. Several princes of the blood,
many noblemen of the highest rank, and all the young officers who could ob-
tam the king's permission, entered Metz as volunteers. By their presence
they added spirit to the garrison, and enabled the duke of Guise to employ
on every emergency persons eager to distinguish themselves, and fit to con-
duct any service.

But with whatever aiacrity the duke of Guise undertook the defence of
Metz, he found everything, upon his arrival there, in such a situation as
might have induced any person of less intrepid courage to despair of defend-
ing it with success. The city was of great extent, with large suburbs ; the
•walls were in many places feeble and without ramparts; the ditch narrow;
and the old towers, which projected instead of bastions, were at too great
distance from each other to defend the space between them._ Eor all these
defects he endeavoured to provide the best remedy which the time would per-
mit. He ordered the suburbs, without sparing the monasteries or churches,
not even that of St. Arnulph, in which several kings of Erance had been
buried, to be levelled with the ground ; but, in order to guard against the
imputation of impiety, to which such a violation of so many sacred edifices,
as well as of the ashes of the dead, might expose him, he executed this with
much religious ceremony. Having ordered all the holy vestments and utensils,
together with the bones of the kings, and other persons deposited in these

BOOK XI.] TIIE EMPEKOR INVESTS METZ. 431

churches, to be removed, they were carried in solemn procession to a church
within the walls, he himself walking before them bare-headed, with a torch in
his hand. He then pulled down such houses as stood near trie walls, cleared
and enlarged the ditch, repaired tlie ruinous fortifications, and erected new
ones. As it was necessary that all these works should be finished with the
utmost expedition, he laboured at them with his own hands ; the officers and
volunteers imitated his example ; and the soldiers submitted with cheerfulness
to the most severe and fatiguing service, when they saw that their superiors
did not dechne to bear a part in it. At the same time he compelled aU useless
persons to leave the place ; he filled the magazines with provisions and mili-
tary stores : he burnt the mills, and destroyed the corn and forage for several
miles round the to^vn. Such were his popular talents, as well as his arts of
acquiring an ascendant over the minds of men, that the citizens seconded him
with no less ardour than the soldiers ; and eveiy other passion being swallowed
up in the zeal to repulse the enemy, with wliich he inspired them, they beheld
the ruin of their estates, together with the havoc which he made among their
public and private buildings, without any emotion of resentment.^

Meantime the emperor, having collected aU his forces, continued his march
towai'ds Metz. As he passed through the cities on the llhine, he saw the
dismal effects of that hcentious and wasteful war which Albert had carried
on in these parts. Upon liis approach, that prince, though at the head of
twenty thousand men, withdrew into Lorrain, as if he had intended to join
the Erench king, whose arms he had quartered with his o^vn in all his staii-
dards and ensigns. Albert was not in a condition to cope with the imperial
troops,* which amounted at least to sixty thousand men, forming one of the
most numerous and best-appointed armies which had been brought into the
field during that age, in any of the wars among Chiistian princes.

The chief command, under the emperor, was committed to the duke of
Alva, assisted by the marquis de Marignano, together with the most experi-
enced of the Italian and Spanish generals. As it was now towards the end
of October, these intelligent officers represented the great danger of beginning-,
at such an advanced season, a siege which could not fail to prove very tedious.
But Charles adhered to his own opinion with his usual obstinacy, and, bemg
confident that he had made such preparations, and taken such precautions as
would ensure success, he ordered the city to be invested. As soon as the duke
of Alva appeared, a large body of the French sallied out and attacked his van-
guard witii great vigour, put it in confusion, and killed or took prisoners a
considerable number of men. By this early specimen which they gave of the
conduct of their officers, as well as the valour of their troops, they showed the
imperialists what an enemy they had to encounter, and how dear eveiy ad-
vantage must cost them. The place, however, was completely mvested, the
trenches were opened, and the other works begun.

The attention both of the besiegers and besieged was turned for some time
towa ds Albert of Brandenburg, and they strove with emulation which should
gain that prmce, who still hovered in the neighbourhood, fluctuating in aR
the uncertainty of irresolution natui-al to a man who, being swayed by no

frmciple, was allured different ways by contrarv views of interest. The
i-ench tempted him with offers extremely beneficial; the imperiahsts scrupled
at no promise which they thought might allure him. Alter much hesitation,
he was gained by the emperor, from "whom he expected to receive advantjiges
which were both more inunediate and more permanent. As the French king,
who began to suspect his intentions, had appointed a body of troops under
the duke of Amnale, brother to the duke of Guise, to watch his motions,

« Thuan. xL p. 387 * Natal. Comitis Hist. p. 127.

432 OPEEATIONS OF THE IMPERIALISTS. [BOOK XL

Albert fell upon tliem unexpectedly with such vigour, that he routed them
entirely, killed many of the officers, wounded Aumale himself, and took him
prisoner. Immediately after this victory, he marched in triumph to Metz,
and joined his army to that of the emperor. Charles, in reward for this service,
and the great accession of strength which he brought him, granted Albert a
formal pardon of all past offences, and confinned him in the possession of the
territories which he had violently usurped during the war.*

The duke of Guise, though deeply affected with his brother's misfortunes,
did not remit, in any degree, the vigour with which he defended the town.
He harassed the besiegers by frequent sallies, in which his officers were so
eager to distinguish themselves, that his authority being hardly sufficient to
restrain the impetuosity of their courage, he was obliged at different times
to shut the gates, and to conceal the keys, in order to prevent the princes
of the blood, and noblemen of the first rank, from exposing themselves to
danger in every sally. He repaired in the night what the enemy's artillery
had beat down during the day, or erected behind the ruiaed works new fortifi-
cations of almost equal strength. The imperialists, on their part, pushed on
the attack with ^reat spirit, and carried forward at once approaches against
different parts of the town. But the art of attacking fortified places was not
then arrived at that degree of perfection to wliich it was carried towards the
close of the sixteenth century, duritig the long war in the Netherlands. The
besiegers, after the unwearied labour of many weeks, found that they had
made but little progress ; and although their batteries had made breaches in
different places,_ they saw, to their astonishment, works suddenly appear, in
demolishmg which their fatigues and dangers would be renewed. The em-
peror, enraged at the obstinate resistance which his army met with, left
ThionviUe, where he had been confined by a violent fit of the gout, and
though still so infirm that he was obhged to be carried in a litter, he repaired
to the camp ; that, by his presence, he might animate the soldiers, and urge
on the attack with greater spirit. Upon his arrival, new batteries were
erected, and new efforts were made with redoubled ardour.

But, by this time, winter had set in with great rigour ; the camp was alter-
nately deluged with rain or covered with snow ; at the same time provisions
were become extremely scarce, as a body of JFrench cavalry, which hovered in
the neighbourhood, often interrupted the convoys, or rendered their arrival
difficult and uncertaia. Diseases began to spread among the soldiers, espe-
cially among the Italians and Spaniards, unaccustomed to sach inclement
weather; great numbers were disabled from serving, and many died. At
length, such breaches were made as seemed practicable, and Charles resolved
to hazard a general assault, in spite of all the remonstrances of his generals
against the imprudence of attacking a numerous garrison, conducted and
animated by the most gallant of the Erench nobility, with an army weakened
by diseases, and disheartened with ill success. The duke of Guise, suspecting
the emperor's intentions from the extraordinary movements wliich he oBservea
in the enemy's camp, ordered all his troops to their respective posts. They
appeared iinmediately on the walls, and behind the breaches, with such a de-
termined countenance, so eager for the combat, and so well prepared to give
the assailants a warm reception,^ that the imperiahsts, instead of advancing
to the charge when the word of command was given, stood motionless in a
timid dejected silence. The emperor, 'perceiving that he could not trust
troops whose spirits were so much broken, retired abruptly to liis quai-ters,
complaining that he was now deserted by his soldiers, who deserved no longer
the name of men.^

» Sleid. p. 675. Thuan. lib. xi. pp. 389, 392. • Tbuan. p. 397.

BOOK XI.] CHAELES EAISES THE SIEGE. 433

Deeply as this beliavour of his troops mortified and affected Charles, he
wrould uot hear of abandoning the siege, tliou^h he saw the necessity of
changing the method of attack. He suspended the fury of his batteries, and
proposed to proceed by the more secure but tedious method of sapping. But
as it still continued to rain or to snow almost incessantly, such as were em-
ployed in tliis service endured incredible hardships ; and the duke of Guise,
whose industiy was not inferior to his valour, discoverina; all their mines,
counterworked them, and prevented their effect. At last Charles, finding it
impossible to contend any longer with the severity of the season, and with
enemies whom he could neither overpower by force, nor subdue by art, while
at the same time a contagious distemper raged among his troops, and cut off
daily great numbers of the officers as well as soldiers, yielded to the solicita-
tions of his generals, who conjured him to save the remains of his army by a
timely retreat. " Fortune," savs he, " I now perceive, resembles other
females, and chooses to confer her favours on young men, while she turns
her back on those who are advanced in years."

Upon this he gave orders immediately to raise the siege, and submitted to
the disgrace of libandoning the enterprise, after having continued fifty-six
days before the town, during which time he had lost upwards of thirty thou-
sand men, who died of diseases or were killed by the enemy. The duke ot
Guise, as soon as he perceived the intention of the imperialists, sent out
several bodies both of cavalry and infantry, to infest their rear, to pick up
stragglers, and to seize every opportunity of attacking them with advantage.
Such was the confusion with wQich they made their retreat, that the French
might have harassed them in the most cruel manner. But when they sallied
out, a spectacle presented itself to their view, which extin^shed at once all
hostile rage, and melted them into tenderness and compassion. The imperial
camp was filled with the sick and wounded, with the dead and the dyin^. In
all the different roads by which the army retired, numbers were found who,
having made an effort to escape, beyond their strength, were left, when they
could go no farther, to perish without assistance. This they received from
their enemies, and were indebted to them for all the kind offices which their
friends had not the power to perform. The duke of Guise immediately ordered
proper refreshments for such as were dying of hunger ; he appointed surgeons
to attend the sick and wounded ; he removed such as could bear it into the
adjacent villages ; and those who woidd have suffered by being carried so far,
he admitted into the hospitals which he had fitted up in the city for his own
soldiers. As soon as they recovered, he sent them home under an escort of
soldiers, and with money to bear their charges. By these acts of humanity,
which were uncommon in that age, when war was carried on with greater
rancour and ferocity than at present, the duke of Guise completed the fame
which he had acquired by his gallant and successful defence of Metz, and
engaged those whom he had vanquished to vie with his own countrymen in
extolling his name.^

To these calamities in Germany were added such unfortunate events in
Italy, as rendered this the most disastrous year in the emperor's life. During
his residence at Yillach, Charles had applied to Cosmo de' Medici for the
loan of two hundred thousand crowns. But his credit at that time was so
low, that in order to obtain this inconsiderable sum, he was obliged to put

enabled

him in possession of the principality of Piombino, and by giving him that, he
lost the footing which he had hitlierto maintained in Tuscany, and

■ ' Sleid. T). 575. Thuan. lib. xi. pp. 389, &c. P^re Daniel, Hist, de France, torn. iiL
p. 392. Pere Daniel's account of this sieee is taken from the journal of UlC Siour de fitt*
lignac, who was present. Natal. Comit. HLst. p. 129.

2r

434 LOSSES OP THE EMPEEOR IN ITALY. [BOOK XI.

Cosmo to assume, for the future, the tone and deportment of a prince al-
togetlier independent. Much about the time that his indigence constrained
him to part with this valuable territory, he lost Siena, wliich was of still
greater consequence, through the ill conduct of Don Diego de Mendoza,*

Siena, like most of the great cities in Italy, had long enjoyed a republican
government, under the protection of the empire ; but being torn in pieces
hj the dissensions between the nobility and the people, which divided all the
Italian commonwealths, the faction of the people, which gained the ascendant,
besoughf the emperor to become the guardian of the administration which
they had established, and admitted into their city a small body of Spanish
soldiers, whom he had sent to countenance the execution of the laws, and
to preserve tranquillity among them. The command of these troops was
given to Mendoza, at that time ambassador for the emperor at Home, who
persuaded the credulous multitude that it was necessary for their security,
against any future attempt of the nobles, to allow him to build a citadel
in Siena ; and, as he flattered himself that, by means of this fortress, he
might render the emperor master of the city, he pushed on the works with
all possible despatch. But he threw off the mask too soon. Before the for-
tifications were completed he began to indulge his natural haughtiness and
severity of temper, and to treat the citizens with great insolence. At the
same time the soldiers in garrison, being paid as irregularly as the emperor's
troops usually were, lived almost at discretion upon the inhabitants, and
were guilty of many acts of licence and oppression.

These injuries awakened the Sienese to a sense of their danger. As they
saw the necessity of exerting themselves while the unfinished fortifications
of the citadel left them any hopes of success, they applied to the Erench am-
bassador at Rome, who readily ]promised them his master's protection and
assistance. At tlie same time, forgetting their domestic animosities when
such a mortal blow was aimed at the liberty and existence of the republic,
they sent agents to the exiled nobles, and invited them to concur with them
in saving their country from the servitude with which it was threatened. As
there was not a moment to lose, measures were concerted speedily, but with
great prudence, and were executed with equal vigour. The citizens rose
suddenly in arms : the exiles flocked into the town irom different parts, with
all their partisans and what troops they could draw together; and several
bodies of '^mercenaries in the pay of France appeared to supix)rt them. The
Spaniards, though surprised and much inferior in number, defended themselves
with great courage ; but seeing no prospect of relief, and having no hopes
of maintaining their station long in a half-finished fortress, they soon gave
tt up. The Sienese, with the utmost alacrity, levelled it with the ground,
that no monument might remain of that odious structure which had been
raised in order to enslave them. At the same time, renouncing all connexion
with the emperor, they sent ambassadors to thank the king of France as
the restorer of their liberty, and to entreat that he would secure to them the
perpetual enjojmient of that blessing, by continuing his protection to their
republic.^

'lo these misfortunes, one still more fatal had almost succeeded. The
severe administration of Don Pedro de Toledo, viceroy of Naples, having
filled that kingdom with murmuring and disaffection, the prince of Salerno,
the head of the malecontents, had fled to the court of France, where all who
bore ill will to the emperor or his ministers were sure of finding protec-

» Thuan. lib. zi. p. 376.
i'e»ic», il^moire de Siena, vol. iii. pp. 230, 261. Thuan. pp. S75, 377, &5. Partita,
Hist. Venet. p. 267. Mem. de Ribier, pp. 424, &c.

BOOK XI.] DESCENT Or THE TTJKKS ON THE KINGDOM OP NAPLES. 435

tion and assistance. That nobleman, in the usnal style of exiles, boasting
much of the number and power of liis partisans, and of his great influence
with them, prevailed on Henry to think of invading Naples, from an ex-
pectation of being joined by all those with whom the prince of Salerno held
correspondence, or who were dissatisfied with Toledo's government. But
though the first hint of this enterprise was suggested by the piince of Sa-
lerno, Henry did not choose that its success should entirelv depend upon
his being able to fulfil the promises which he had made, tie applied for
aid to Solyman, whom he courted, after his father's example, as his most
vigorous auxiliary against the emperor, and solicited liim to second his
operations, by sending a powerful fleet into the Mediterranean. It was not
difficult to obtain what ne requested of the sultan, who at this time was
biglily incensed against the house of Austria, on account of the proceedings
in Hungary. He ordered a hundred and fifty ships to be equipped, that they
might sail towards the coast of Naples, at whatever time Henry should
name, and might co-operate with the French troops in their attempts upon
that kingdom. The command of this fleet was giVen to the corsair Dragut,
an ofticer trained up under Barbarossa, and scarcely inferior to his master in
courage, in talents, or in good fortune. He appeared on the coast of Calabria
at the time which had been agreed on, landed at several places, plundered and
burnt several villages ; and at last, casting anchor in the Bay of Naples, filled
that city with consternation. But as the French fleet, detained by some
accident, which the contemporary historians have_ not explained, did not join
the Turks according to concert, they, after waiting twenty days without
hearing any tidings of it, set sail for Constantinople, and thus delivered the
viceroy of Naples from the terror of an invasion which he was not in a
condition to have resisted.'"

[1553.] As the French had never given so severe a check to the emperor
in any fonner campaign, they expressed immoderate joy at the success of their
arms. Charles himself, accustomed to a long; series of prosperity, felt the
calamity most sensibly, and retired from Metz into the Low Countries, much
dejected with the cruel reverse of fortune which affected him in his declining
age, when the violence of the gout had increased to such a pitch as entirely
broke the vigour of his constitution, and rendered him peevish, difficult of
access, and often incapable of applying to business. But, whenever he enjoyed
any interval of ease, all his thoughts were bent on revenge ; and he delibe-
rated with the greatest solicitude concerning the most proper means of an-
noying France, and of eft'acing the stain which had obscui-ed the reputation
and glory of his arms. All the schemes concerning Germany, which had
engrossed him so long, being disconcerted by the peace of Passau, the affairs
of the empire became only secondary objects of attention; and enmity to
France was the predominant passion which chiefly occupied liis mind.

The turbulent ambition of Albert of Brandenburg excited violent commo-
tions, which disturbed the empire during this vear. That prince's troops
having shared in the calamities of the siege of Metz, were greatly reduced in
number. But the emperor, prompted by gratitude for his distinguished
sei-vices on that occasion, or perhaps with a secret view of fomenting divisions
among the princes of the empire, having paid up aU the money due to him,
he was enabled with that sum to hire so many ol the soldiers dismissed fi'om
the imperial army, that he was soon at the head of a body of men as nu-
merous as ever. The bishops of Bamberg and Wurzburg having soUcited the
imperial chamber to annul, by its authority, the iniquitous conditions which
Albert had compelled them to sign, that court unanimously found all their

" Thuan. pp. 375, 380. Mem. de Ribier, ii. p, 403. Gianrone.
2f2

436 LEAGUE AGAINST ALBERT OF BRANDENBUKG. [BOOK XI.

engagements with him to be void in their own nature, because they had been
extorted by force : enjoined Albert to renounce all claim to the perfonnance
of them ; and, if he should persist in such an unjust demand, exhorted all
the princes of the empire to take arms against him as a disturber of the
public tranquilHty. To tliis decision Albert opposed the confinnation of
his transactions with the two prelates, which the emperor had granted him
as the reward of his having jomed the imperial anny at Metz ; and in order
to intimidate his antagonists, as well as to convmee them of liis resolution
not to relinquish his pretensions, he put his troops in motion, that he might
secure the territory in question. Various endeavours were employed, and
many expedients proposed, in order to prevent the kindling of a new war
in Germany. But the same warmth of temper which rendered Albert turbu-
lent and enterprising, inspiring him with the most sanguine hopes of success
even in his wildest imdertakings, he disdainfully rejected all reasonable over-
tures of accommodation.

Upon this the imperial chamber issued its decree against him, and re-
quired the elector of Saxony, together with several other princes mentioned
by name, to take arms in order to carry it into execution. Maurice, and
those associated with him, were not unwilliu^ to undertake this service.
They were extremely solicitous to maintain public order by supporting the
authority of the imperial chamber, and_ saw the necessity of giving a timely
check to the usurpations of an ambitious prince, who had no principle of
action but regard to his own interest, and no motive to direct him out the im-
pulse of ungovernable passion. They had good reason to suspect that the em-
peror encouraged Albert in Ms extravagant and irregular proceedings, and
secretly afforded him assistance, that, by raising him up to rival Maurice in
power, he might, in any future broil, make use of his assistance to coun-
terbalance and control the authority which the other had acquired in the
emjpire."

These considerations united the most powerful princes in Germany in a
league against Albert, of which Maurice was declared generalissimo. This
formidable confederacy, however, wrought no change in Albert's sentiments ;
but as he knew he could not resist so many princes, if he sh9uld allow them
time to assemble their forces, he endeavoured, by his activity, to deprive
them of all the advantages which they might derive from their united power
and numbers ; and, for that reason, marched directly against Maurice, the
enemy whom he dreaded most. It was happy for the allies that the con-
duct of their affairs was committed to a prince of such abilities. He, by his
authority and example, had inspired them with vigour: and having earned
on their preparations with a degree of rapidity of which confederate bodies
are seldom capable, he was in a condition to face Albert before he could
make any considerable progress.

Their'armies, which were nearly equal in number, each consisting of twenty-
four thousand men, met at Sieverhausen, in the ducny of Lunenburg ; aiid the
violent animosity against each other, which possessed the two leaders, did not
suffer them to continue long inactive. The troops, inflamed with the same
hostile rage, marched fiercely to the combat ; they fought with the greatest
obstinacy ; and as both generals were capable of availing themselves of every
favourable occurrence, the battle remained lon^ doubtful, each gaining ground
upon the other altematelv. At last victory declared for Maurice, who was su-
perior m cavalrv. and Albert's armv fled m confusion, leavmg four thousand
dead on the fiela, and their camp, baggage, and artillery, in the hands of the

»» Sleid. p. 585. Mem. de Ribier, iu p. 442. Amoldi Vito Maurit. ap. Menken, n.
p. 1242.

BOOK XL] DEFEAT OF ALBERT AXD DEATH OF MAUEICE. 437

conquerors. The allies bought their victory dear ; their best troops suffered
greatly; two sons of the duke of Brunswick, a duke of Lunenburg, and
manv other persons of distinction, were among the number of the slain.'- But
all tliese were soon forgotten ; for Maurice himself, as he led up to a second
charge a body of horse which had been broken, received a wound with a
pistol-bullet in the belly, of which he died two days after the battle, in the thirty-
second year of his age, and in the sixth after Lis attaining the electoral dignity.

Of all the personages who have appeared in the history of this active age,
when great occurrences and sudden revolutions called forth extraordinary
talents to view, and afforded them full opportunity to display themselves,
Maurice may justly be considered as the most remarkable. If his exorbitant
ambition, his profound dissimulation, and his unwarrantable usurpation of
his kinsman's lionours and dominions, exclude him from being praised as a
virtuous man ; his prudence in concerting liis measures, his vigour in execu-
ting them, and the uniform success with which they were attended, entitle
him to the appellation of a great prince. At an age when impetuositv of
spirit commonly predominates over political wisdom, when the highest efi'ort
even of a genius of the first order is to fix on a bold scheme, and to execute
it with promptitude and courage, he fonned and conducted an intricate plan
of policy, which deceived the most artful monarch in Europe. At the very
juncture when the emperor had attained to almost unlimited despotism,
Maurice, with power seemingly inadequate to such an undertaking, com-
pelled him to reluiquish all his usurpations, and established not only the
religious but civil liberties of Germany on such foundations as have hithei-to
remained unshaken. Although, at one period of his life, his conduct ex-
cited the jealousy of the protestants, and at another drew on him the re-
sentment of the JEloman catholics, such was his masterly address, that he was
the only prince of the age who in any degree possessed the confidence of both,
and whom both lamented as the most able as well as faithful guardian of the
constitution and laws of his country.

The consternation wliich Maurice's death occasioned among his troops,
prevented them from making the proper improvement of the victory which
they had gained. Albert, whose active courage and profuse liberality ren-
dered him the darling of such military adventurers as were little solicitous
about the justice of his cause, soon re-assembled his broken forces, and
made fresh levies with such success, that he was quickly at the head of
fifteen thousand men, and renewed his depredations with additional fmy.
But Heniy of Brunsw^ick having taken the command of the allied troops, de-
feated him in a second battle, scarcely less bloody than the former. Even
then his courage did not sink, nor were his resources exhausted. He made
several eftbrts, and some of them very vigorous, to retrieve his affairs ; but
being laid under the ban of the empire by the imperial chamber; being
driven by degrees out of all his hereditary territories, as well as those which
he had usurped ; being forsaken by many of his olficers, and overpowered by
the number of his enemies, he fled tor refuge into France. After having been
for a considerable time the terror and scourge of Germany, he lingered out
some years in an indigent and dependent state of exile, the* miseries of which
his restless and arrogant spirit endured with the most indignant impatience.
"Upon his death without issue, his territories, wliich had been seized by the
prmces who took arms gainst him, were restored, by a decree of the em-
peror, to his collateral heirs of the house of Brandenburg."

»2 Historia Pugnse infelicis inter Maurit. et Albert. Thorn. Wintzero anctore, apud
Scard ii. p. 5.59. Sleid. p. 583. Ruscelli, Epistres aux Princes, p. 154. Arnoldi Vita
Maurit. p. 1245.

" Slcid. pp. 592, 594, 599. Stmv. Corp. Hist. Germ. 1075.

48B HOSTILITIES IN THE NETHERLANDS. [bOOK XI,

Maurice, having left only one daughter, who was afterwards married to
William, prince of Orange, by whom she had a son who bore his grandfather's
name, and inherited the great talents for which he was conspicuous, a violent
dispute arose concerning the succession to his honours and territories. John
Frederick, the degraded elector, claimed the electoral dignity, and that part
of his patrimonial estate of which he had been violently stripped after the
Smalkaldic war. Augustus, ]\Iaurice's only brother, pleaded his right not
only to the hereditary possessions of their family, but to the electoral dignity,
and to the territories which Maurice had acquired. As Augustus was 'a
prince of considerable abilities, as weR as of great candour and gentleness
of mamiers, the states of Saxony, forgetting the merits and sufferings of their
former master, declared warmly in his favour. His pretensions were power-
fully supported by the king of Denmark, whose daughter he had manied, and
zealously espoused by the king of the Romans, out of regard to Maurice's
memory. The degraded elector, though secretly favoured by his ancient
enemy the emperor, Avas at last obhged to relinquish his claim, upon obtaining
a small addition to the tenitories which had been allotted to him, together
with a stipulation securing to his family the eventual succession, upon a
failure of male heirs in the Albertine line. That unfortunate but magnani-
mous prince died next year, soon after ratifying this treaty of agreement ; and
the electoral dignity is still possessed by the descendants of Augustus."

During these transactions in Germany, war was carried on in the Low
Countries with considerable vigour. The emperor, impatient to efface the
stain which his ignominious repidse at Metz left upon his military reputation,
had an army early in the 11 eld, and laid siege to Terouenne. Though the
town was of such importance, that Erancis used to call it one of the two
pillars on which a king of Erance might sleep with security, the fortifications
were in bad repair. Henrj^, trusting to what had happened at Metz, thought
nothing more was necessary to render all the efforts of the enemy abortive,
than to reinforce the garrison with a considerable number of the youn^ no-
bility. But D'Esse, a veteran officer who commanded them, bemg killed,
and the imperialists pushing the siege with great vigour and perseverance, the
place was taken by assault. That it might not fall again into the hands of
the Erench, Charles ordered not only the fortifications but the town itself to
be razed, and the inhabitants to be dispersed in the adjacent cities. Elated
vnth this success, _ the imperialists immediately invested Hesden, which,
though defended with great bravery, was likewise taken by assault, and such
of the gan'ison as escaped the sword were taken prisoners. The emperor
entrusted the condact of the siege to Emanuel Philibert of Savoy, prince
of Piedmont, who, on that occasion, gave the first display of those great
talents of military command which soon entitled him to be ranked among the
first generals of the age, and facilitated his re-establishment in his hereditary
dominions, the greater part of which, havmg been overrun by Erancis m liis
expeditions into Italy, were still retained by Heniy.^^

The loss of these towns, together with so many persons of distinction,
• either killed or taken by the enemy, was no inconsiderable calamity to Erance,
and Henry felt it very sensibly ; but he was still more mortified at the em-
peror's having recovered his wonted superiority in the field so soon after the
blow at Metz, which the Erench had represented as fatal to his power. He
was ashamed, too, of his own remissness and excessive security at the open-
ing of the campaign ; and, in order to repair- that error, he assembled a
numerous army, and led it into the Low Countries.

1* Sleid. p. 587. Thuan. p. 409. Strav. Corp. Hist. Germ.
15 Thuan. p. 411. Harsei Annales Brabaat, p. 669

BOOK XI.] LOSSES IN ITALY AJSD HUNGARY. 4^9

Roused at the approach of such a formidable enemy, Charlas left Brussels,
where he had been shut up so closely durmg seven months, that it came
to be believed in many parts of Europe that he was dead ; and thou^-h he
was so much debilitated by the gout, that he could hardly bear the motion of
a litter, he hastened to join his army. The eyes of all Europe were turned
^nth expectation towards those mighty and exasperated rivals, between
whom a decisive battle was now tliouglit unavoidable But Charles having
prudently declined to hazard a general engagemeui, and the violence of the au-
tumnal rains rendering it impossible for tlie French to undertake any siege,
they retired, without having performed anything suitable to the great prepa-
rations whicli they had made.'*

The imperial amis were not attended -snth the same success in Italy. The
narrowness of the emperor's finances seldom allowed him to act with vigour
in two diiFerent places at the same time ; and, having exerted liimself to
the utmost in order to make a great eflbrt in the Low Countries, his opera-
tions on the other side of the Alps were proportionably feeble. The viceroy
of Naples, in conjunction with Cosmo de' Medici, who was greatly alarmed
at the introduction of French troops into Siena, endeavoured to become
master of that city. But, instead of reducing the Sienese, the imperialists
were obliged to retire abraptly, in order to defend their own country, upon
the appearance of the Turkish fleet, which threatened the coast of Naples ;
and the French not only established themselves more firmly in Tuscany, but
by the assistance of the Turks, conquered a great part of the island of Cor-
sica, subject at that time to the Genoese.''

The atfairs of the house of Austria declined no less in Hungary during the
course of this year. As the troops which Ferdinand kept in Transylvania
received their pay very irregularly, they lived almost at discretion upon the
inhabitants ; and their insolence and rapaciousness greatly disgusted all
ranks of men, and alienated them from their new sovereign, who, instead
of protecting, plundered his subjects. Their indignation at this, added to
their desire- of revenging Martinuzzi's death, wrought so much upon a turbu-
lent nobility, impatient of mjury, and upon a fierce people, prone to change,
that they were ripe for a revolt. At that very juncture, their late queen Isa-
bella, together with her son, appeared in Transylvania. Her ambitious mind
could not bear the solitude and inactivity of a private life ; _ and, repenting
quickly of the cession which she had made of the cro^vn in the year one
tnousand five hundred and fifty-one, she left the place of her retreat, hoping
that the dissatisfaction of the Hungarians with the Austrian government
would prompt them once more to recognise her son's right to the cro^vn
Some noblemen of great eminence declared immediately in his favour. The
basha of Belgrade, oy Soljinan's order, espoused his cause, in opposition to
Ferdinand ; the Spanish and German soldiers, instead of advancing against
the enemy, mutinied for want of pay, declaring that they would march back
to Vienna; so that Castaldo, their* general, was obliged to abandon Tran-
sylvania to Isabella and the Turks, and to place himself at the head of the
mutineers, that, by his authority, he might restrain them from plundermg
the Austrian territories through which they passed.'^

Ferdinand's attention was turned so entirely towards the affairs of Ger-
many, and his treasures so much exhausted by his late efforts in Hungary,
that he made no attempt to recover this valuable nroviuce, although a favour-
able opportimity for that purpose presented itself, as Solyman was then en-
gaged in a war with Persia, and involved besides in domestic calamities winch
engi'ossed and disturbed his mind. Solyman, though distinguished by many

» HarsEUs, p. C72. Thuan. p. 414 »■' Thuan. p. 417. '-'' Thuan. p.

430.

440 AMBITION AND SCHEMES OF [BOOK XI.

accomplisliments from the other Ottoman princes, had all the passions pe*
culiar to that violent and haughty race. He was jealous of his authority,
sudden as well as furious in his anger, and susceptible of all that rage and
love which reigns in the East, and often produces the wildest and most tragical
effects. His favourite mistress was a Circassian slave of exquisite beauty,
who bore him a son called Mustapha, whom, both on account of his birthright
and his merit, he destined to be the heir of his crown. Roxalana, a Russian I
captive, soon supplanted the Circassian, and gained the sultan's heart. Having f
the address to retain the conquest which she had made, she kept possession/
of liis love without any rival for many years, during which she Drought him \
several sons and one daughter. All the happiness, however, which she de- \
rived from the unbounded sway that she had acquired over a monarch whom
one half of the world revered or dreaded, was embittered by perpetual re-
flexions on Mustapha's accession to the throne, and the certain death of her
sons, who, _ she foresaw, would be immediately sacrificed, according to the
barbarous jealousy of Turkish policy, to the safety of the new emperor. By
dwelling continuaDy on this melancholy idea, she came gradually to view Mus-
tapha as tlie enemy of her children, and to hate him with more than a step-
mother's ill-will. This prompted her to wish his destruction, in order to secure
for one of her own sons the throne which was destined for him. Nor did she
want eitlier ambition to attempt such a high enterprise, or the arts requisite
for cairj'ing it into execution. Having prevailed on the sultan to give her
only daughter in marriage to Kustan, the grand vizier, she disclosed her
scheme to that crafty minister, who, perceiving that it was his own interest
to co-operate with her, readily promised his assistance towards aggrandizing
that branch of the royal line to which he was now so nearly allied.

As soon as lloxalana had concerted her measures with this able confidant,
she began to affect a wonderful zeal for the Mahometan religion, to which
Solyman was superstitiously attached, and proposed to found and endow a
royal mosque, a work of great expense, but deemed by the Turks meritorious
in the highest degree. The multi, whom she consulted, approved much of
her pious intention ; but, having been gained and instructed, by Rustan, told
her that, she being a slave, could derive no benefit herself from that holy
deed, for all the merit of it would accrue to Solyman, the master whose pro-
perty she was. Upon this she seemed to be overwhelmed with sorrow, and to
sinlc into the deepest melancholy, as if she had been disgusted with life and
all its enjoyments. Solyman, who was absent with the army, being informed
of this deiection of mind, and of the cause from which it proceeded, discovered
all the solicitude of a lover to remove it, and, by a writing under his hand,
declared her a free woman. Roxalana, having gained this point, proceeded
to build the mosque, and re-assumed her usual gaiety of spirit. But when
Solyman, on his return to Cpnstantinople, sent a eunuch, according to the
custom of the seraglio, to bring her to partake of his bed, she, seemingly
with deep regret, but in the most peremptory manner, declined to follow the
eunuch, declaring that what had been an honour to her while a slave, became
a crime as she was now a free woman, and that she would not involve either
the sultan or herself in the guilt that must be contracted by such an open
violation of th3 law of their prophet. Solyman, whose passion this difiiculty,
as well as the affected delicacy which gave rise to it, heightened and inflamed,
had recourse immediately to the mufti for his direction. He replied, agree-
ably to the Koran, that Koxalana's scruples were well founded ; but added
artfully, in words which Rustan had taught him to use, that it was in the
sultan's power to remove these difficulties, bj espousing her as Ids lawful
wife. The amorous monarch closed eagerly vnth the proposal, and solemnly
married her, according to the form of the Mahometan ritual ; though, by so

BOOK XI.] ROXAIANA, SOLYMAU'S MISTRESS. Ml

doiiiff, he disregarded a maxim of policy which the pride of the Ottoman
blood had taught all the sultans siuce Bajazet I. to consider as inviolable.
From tliis time none of the Turkish monarchs had married, because, when
he was vanquished and taken prisoner by Tamerlane, his wife had been al)used
with barbarous insolence by the Tartars. That no similar calamity might
again subject the Ottoman family to the same disgrace, the sultans admitted
none to their beds but slaves, whose dishonour could not bring any such
stain upon their house.

But the more uncommon the step was, the more it convinced Roxalana
of the unbounded influence which she had acquired over the sultan's heart ;
and emboldened her to prosecute, with greater hope of success, the scheme
that she had formed in order to destroy Mustapha. This voung prince having
been entrusted by his father, according to the practice of the sultans in that
age, with the government of several different provinces, was at that time in-
vested with the administration in Diarbequir, the ancient Mesopotamia, which
Solyman had wrested from the Persians, and added to his empire. In all
tliese different commands, Mustapha had conducted himself with such cautious
prudence as could give no offence to his father, though, at the same time, he
governed with so much moderation as well as justice, and displayed such
valour and generosity, as rendered him equally the favourite of the people and
the darling of the soloiery.

There was no room to lay any folly or vice to his charge, that could impair
the high opinion which his father entertained of him. Roxalana's malevolence
was more refined ; she turned his virtues against Imn, and made use of these
as engines for his destruction. She often mentioned, in Solyman's presence,
the splendid qualities of his son; she celebrated his courage, his liberality,
ids popular arts ; with malicious and exaggerated praise. As soon as she per-
ceived that the sultan, heard these encomiums, which were often repeated,
with uneasiness ; that suspicion of his son began to mingle itself with his
former esteem ; and that by degrees he came to view him with jealousy and
fear 5 she introduced, as by accident, some discourse concerning the rebellion
of his father SeHm against Bajazet his grandfather : she took notice of the
bravery of the veteran troops under Mustapha's command, and of the neigh-
Dourhood of Diarbequir to the territories of the Persian sophi. Solyman's
mortal enemy. By these arts whatever remained of paternal tenderness was
gradually extinguished, and such passions were kindled in the breast of the
sultan, as gave all Roxalana's malignant suggestions the colour not only of
probability but of truth. His suspicions and fear of Mustapha settled mto
deep-rooted hatred. He appointed spies to observe and rep9rt all his words
and actions ; he watched and stood on his guard against him, as his most
dangerous enemy.

Having thus alienated the sultan's heart from Mustapha, Roxalana ven-
tui-ed upon another step. She entreated Solyman to allow her own sons the
liberty of appearing at court, hoping that, by gaining access to their father,
they inight, by their good (qualities and dutiful deportment, insinuate them-
selves into that place in his affections which Mustapha had formerly held ;
and though what she demanded was contrary to the practice of the Ottoman
family in that age, the uxorious monarch granted her reauest. To all these
female intrigues Rustan added an artifice still more subtle, which completed
the sultan's delusion, and heightened his jealousy and fear. He wrote to the
bashas of the provinces adjacent to Diarbequir, instructing them to send
him regular intelligence of Mustapha's proceedings in his government, and
to each of them he gave a private hint, flowing in appearance from liis zeal
for their interest, that nothing would be more acceptable to the sultan than
to receive favourable accounts of a son whom he destined to sustain the glory

44:2 ASSASSINATION OF MTJSTAPHA AND HIS SON LBOOK n^

of the Ottoman name.' The bashas, ignorant of his fraudulent intention, and
eager to pay court to their sovereign at such an easy price, filled their letters
with studied but fatal panegyrics of Mustapha, representing him as a prince
worthy to succeed such an illustrious father, and as endowed with talents
vrliich' might enable him to emulate, perhaps to equal, his fame. These letters
were industriously shown to Solyman, at the seasons when it was known that
they would maJce the deepest impression. Every expression in recommenda-
tion of his son wounded him to the heart ; he suspected his principal olhcers
of being ready to favour the most desperate attempts of a prince whom they
were so fond of praising ; and fancying that he saw them already assaulting
his throne with rebelKous arms, he determined, while it was yet in his power,
to anticipate the blow, and to secure liis own safety by his son's death.

For this purpose, though under pretence of renewing the war against
Persia, he ordered llustan to march towards Diarbequir at the head of a nu-
merous army, and to rid him of a son whose life he deemed inconsistent with
his own safety. But that crafty minister did not choose to be loaded with the
odium of having executed this crael order. As soon as he arrived m Syria,
he wrote to Solyman, that the danger was so imminent as called for his
immediate presence ; that the camp was full of Mustapha' s emissaries ; that
many of the soldiers were corrupted ; that the affections of all leaned towards
liim ; that he had discovered a negotiation which had been carried on with
the soplii of Persia, in order to marry Mustapha with one of his daughters ;
that he already felt liis own talents as well as authority to be inadequate to
the exigencies of such an arduous conjuncture ; that the sultan alone had
sagacity to discern what resolution should be taken in those circumstances,
anicl power to carry that resolution into execution.

This charo-e of courting the friendship of the sophi, Roxalana and Rustan
liad reserved as the last and most envenomed of all their calumnies. It
operated with the violence which they expected froni Solyman's inveterate
abhorrence of the Persians, and threw him into the wildest transports of rage.
He set out instantly for Syria, and hastened thither with all the precipitation
and impatience of fear and revenge. As soon as he joined his army near
Aleppo, and had concerted measures with Rustan, he sent a chiaus, or mes-
senger of the court, to his son, requiring him to repair immediately to his
presence, Mustapha, though no stranger to his stepmother's machinations,
or to llustan's malice, or to his father's violent temper, yet, relying on his
own innocence, and hoping to discredit the accusations of his enemies by the
promptitude of his obedience, followed the messeno:er without delay to Aleppo.
The moment he arrived in the camp, he was introduced into the sultan's tent.
As he entered it, he obsei-ved nothing that could give hun any alarm : no
additional crowd of attendants, no body of armed guards, but the same order
and silence which always reign in the sultan's apartments. In a few minutes,
however, several mutes appeared, at the sight of whom Mustapha, knowing
what was his doom, cried with a loud voice, "Lo, my death !" and attempted
to fly. The mutes rushed forward to seize him ; he resisted and struggled,
demanding with the utmost earnestness to see the sultan • and despau', to-
gether with the hope of finding protection from the somiers, if he could
escape out of the tent, animated him with such extraordinary strength, that,
for some time, he baffled all the efforts of the executioners. Soljman was
within hearing of his son's cries, as well as of the noise which the struggle
occasioned. Impatient of this delay of his revenge, and struck with terror at
the thoughts of Mustapha's escaping, he drew aside the cm-tain which divided
the tent, and, thrusting in liis head, darted a fierce look towards the mutes,
and, with wild and thi-eatening gestures, seemed to condemn their slotii and
timidity. At sight of his father's fuiious and unrelenting coimtenauce.

BOOK XI.] BY COMMAND OF S0LYMA2f. 443

Mustapha's strength failed, and his courage foresook him ; the mutes fastened
the bowstring about his neck, and in a moment put an end to liis life.

The dead body was exposed before the sultan's tent. The soldiers
gathered round it, and, contemplating that mournful object witli astonishment,
and sorrow, and indignation, were ready, if a leader had not been wanting,
to have broke out into the wildest excesses of rage. After giving vent to
the first expressions of their grief, they retired eaeli man to his tent, and,
shutting themselves up, bewailed in secret the cruel fate of their favourite;
nor was there one ot them who tasted food, or even water, during the re-
mainder of that day. Next morning the same solitude and silence reigned in
the cainp ; and Soljman, being afraid that some dreadful storm would follow
this sullen calm, in order to appease the enraged soldiers, deprived Kustan of
the seals, ordered him to leave the camp, and raised Achmet, a gallant officer,
much beloved in the army, to the dignity of vizier. This change, however,
was made in concert with llustan himselt ; that crafty minister suggesting it
as the only expedient which could save himself or his master. But witidn a
few months, when the resentment of the soldiers began to subside, and the
name of Mustapha to be forgotten, Achmet was strangled by the sultan's
command, and Kustan reinstated in the office of vizier. Together with his
former power, he reassumed the plan for exterminating the race of Mustapha
wiiich he haa concerted with Roxalana; and as they were afraid that an
only son whom Mustapha had left, might grow" up to avenge his death, they
redoubled their activity, and by employing the same arts against him which
they had practised against his father, they inspired Solyman with the same
fears, and prevailed on him to issue orders for putting to death that young
innocent prince. These orders were executed witn barbarous zeal by a eunucli,
who was despatched to Burso, the place where the prince resided ; and no
rival was left to dispute the Ottoman throne ^^^th the sons of Roxalaua.'®

Such tragical scenes, productive of so deep distress, seldom occur but
in the historj' of the great monarchies of the Last, where the warmth of the
climate seems to give every emotion of the heart its greatest force, and the
absolute power of sovereigns accustoms and enables them to gratify all their
passions without control. While this interesting transaction in the court of
bolyman engaged his whole attention, Charles was pursuing, with tlie utmost
ardour, a new scheme for aggrandizing his family. About this time, Ed-
ward the Sixth of England, after a short reign, in which he displayed such
%irtues as filled his subjects with sanguine hopes of being happy under his
government, and made them bear with patience all that they suifered from
the weakness, the dissensions, and the ambition of the ministers, wlio assumed
the administration during his minority, was seized with a lingering distem-
per, which threatened his Hfe. The emperor no sooner received an account of
this, than his ambition, always attentive to seize every opportunity of acquir-
ing an increase of power, or of territories, to his son, suggested the thought
of adding England to his other kingdoms, by the marriage of Philip with
the Princess Marj-, the heir of Edward's crown. Being apprehensive, how-
ever, that his son,_ who was then in Spain, might decline a match with a
princess in her thirty-eighth year^ and eleven years older than himself,-'*
Charles determined, notwithstanding his own age and infirmities, to make
offer of himself as a husband to his cousin.

But though Marj" was so far advanced in vears, and destitute of everv
charm either of person or manners that coulcl win affection or command

'• Aagerii Gislenii Bnsbeqnii Legationis TurcicK Epistolse iv. Franc. 1615, p. 37.
Thuan. lib. xii. p. 432. Mem. de Ribier, ii. p. 457. Mauroceni, Histor. Veneta, lib. vii. p. 60.
20 Pallav. Hist. Concil. Trid. v. ii. c. 13, p. 150.

■

444 Charles's marriage projects. [book xi.

esteem, Pliilip, without hesitation, gave his consent to the match proposed by
his father, and was willing, according to the usual maxim of princes, to sacrifice
his inclination to his ambition. In order to ensure the success of his scheme,
the emperor, even before Edward's death, began to take such steps as might
facilitate it. Upon Edward's demise, Mary mounted the tlirone of England :
the pretensions of Lady Jane Gray proving as unfortunate as they were ill
founded.^' Charles sent immediately a pompous embassy to London to con-
gi-atulate Mary on her accession to the throne, and to propose the alliance
with his son. The queen, dazzled with the prospect of marrving the heir of
the greatest monarch in Europe; fond of uniting more closely with her
mother's family, to which she had been always warmly attached ; and eager
to secure the powerful aid which she knew would be necessary towards carry-
ing on her favourite scheme of re-establishing the Romish religion in England,
listened in the most favourable manner to the proposal. Among her subjects
it met with a very different reception. Philip, it was well known, contended
for all the tenets of the church of Rome with a sanguinary zeal which ex-
ceeded the measure even of Spanish bigotry ; this alarmed all the numerous
jmrtisans of the reformation. The Castilian haughtiness and reserve were
tar from being acceptable to the English, who, having several times seen
their throne occupied by persons who were bom subjects, had become accus-
tomed to an unceremonious and familiar intercourse with their sovereigns.
They could not think, without the utmost uneasiness, of admitting a foreign
prince to that influence in theii* councils, which the husband of their queen
would naturally possess. They dreaded, both from Philip's overbearing temper,
and from the maxims of the Spanish monarchy which he liad imbibed, that
he would infuse ideas into the queen's mind dangerous to the liberties of the
nation, and would introduce foreign troops and money into the kingdom,
to assist her in any attempt against them.

Eull of these apprehensions, the house of commons, though in that age
extremely obsequious to the wiU of their monarchs, presented a warm addi-ess
against the Spanish match ; many pamphlets were i)ublished, representing the
dangerous consequences of the alliance with Spain, and describing Philip's
bigotry and arrogance in the most odious colours. But Mary, inflexible in all
her resolutions, paid no regard to the remonstrances of her commons, or to
the sentiments of the people. The emperor having secured, by various
arts, the ministers whom she trusted most, they approved warmly of the
match, and large sums were remitted by him in order to gain the rest of the
council. Cardinal Pole, whom the pope, immediately upon Mary's accession,
had despatched as his legate into England, in order to reconcile his native
country to the see of Rome, was detained, by the emperor's command, at Dil-
linghen, in Germany, lest by his presence he should thwart Philip's preten-
sions, and employ his interest m favour of his kinsman, Courtnay, earl of
Devonshire, whom the English ardently wished their sovereign to choose for
a husband.-'-

As the negotiation did not admit of delay, it was carried forward with the
^eatest rapidity, the emperor agreeing, without hesitation, to every article
m favour of England, which Mary's ministers either represented as necessary
to soothe the people and reconcile them to the match, or that was suggested
by their own fears and jealousy of a foreign master. [1554;.] The chief articles
were, — That Philip, during his marriage with the q^ueeii, should bear the title
of king of England, but the entire administration ot affairs, as well as the sole
disposal of aU revenues, offices, and benefices, should remain with the queen ;
that the heirs of the marriage should, together with the crown of England,

=» Carte's Hist, of England, iii. p. 287. « Ibid. p. 288.

BOOK XI.] MARBIAGE OF PHILIP AKD MARY . 445

inherit the duchy of Burgundy and the Lovv Countries ; tliat if Prince Charles,
Philip's only son bv a former marriage, should die without issue, his children
by the queen, whether male or female, should succeed to the crown of Spain,
and all the emperor's hereditary dominions ; that, before the consummation
of the marriage, Plulip should swear solemnly, that he would retain no do-
mestic who was not a subject of the queen, and would bring no foreigners
into the kingdom that might give umbrage to the English ; that he would
make no alteration in the constitution or laws of England; that he would not
carry the queeuj or any of the children born of this marriage, out of the
kmgdom ; that if the queen should die before him without issue, he would_
immediately leave the crown to the lawful heir, without claiming any right of
administration whatever; that, in consequence of this marriage, England
should not be engaged in any war subsisting between France ana Spain; and
that the alliance between Prance and England should remain in full force.*^

But tins treaty, though both the emperor and Mary's ministers employed
their utmost address in framing it so as to please the English, was far from
quieting their fears and jealousies. They saw that words and promises were
a feeble security against the encroachments of an ambitious prince, who, as
soon as he got possession of the power and advantages which the queen's
husband must necessarily enjoy, could easily evade any of the articles which
either limited his authority or obstructed his schemes. They were convinced
that the more favourable the conditions of the present treaty were to England,
the more Philip would be tempted hereafter to violate them. They dreaded
that England, like Naples^ JVIiian, and the other countries annexed to Spaim
would soon feel the domimon of that crown to be intolerablv oppressive, and
be constrained, as they had been, to waste its wealth and vigour in wars
wherein it haa no interest, and from which it could derive no advantage.
These sentiments prevailed so generally, that every part of the kingdom was
filled with discontent at the match, and with indignation against the advisers
of it. Sir Thomas Wyat, a gentleman of some note, and of good intentions
towards the public, took advantage of this, and roused the inhabitants of Kent
to arms, in order to save their country from a foreign yoke. Great numbers
resorted, in a short time, to his standard ; he marched to London with such
rapidity, and the queen was so utterly unprovided for defence, that the aspect
of aifau-s was 'extremely tlireatening ; and if any nobleman of distinction had
joined the raalecontents, or had Wyat possessed talents equal in any degree
to the boldness of his enterprise, the insurrection must have proved fatal to
"Mary's power. But all Wyat's measures were concerted with so little pru-
dence, and executed with such irresolution, that many of his followers forsook
him ; the rest were dispersed by a handful of soldiers, and he himself was
taken prisoner, without having made any effort worthy of the cause that he
had undertaken, or suitable to the ardour with which he en":aged in it. He
suffered the punishment due to his rashness and rebellion. The queen's au-
thority was confirmed and increased by her success in defeating this incon-
siderate attempt to abridge it. The Lady Jane Gray, whose title the ambition
of her relations had set up in opposition to that of the queen, was, notwith-
standing her youth and innocence, brought to the scaffold. The Lady Eliza-
beth, the queen's sister, was observed with the most jealous attention. The
treaty of marriage was ratified by the parliament.

Philip landed in England with a magnificent retinue, celebrated his nuptials
"with great solemnity ; and though he could not lay aside his natural severity
and pride, or assume gracious and popular manners, he endeavoured to con-
ciliate the favour of the English nobility by his extraordinary liberality. Lest

2» Rymer's Feed. vol. xv. pp. 377, 393. Mem. de Ribier, ii. p. 498.

446 EFfORTS OF MARY TO OVERTHROW PROTESTANTISM. [BOOK XI.

that sliould fail of acquiring him such influence in the goTemment of the
kingdom as he aimed at obtaining, the emperor kept a bodv of twelve thou-
sand men onthe coast of Flanders, in readiness to embark for England, and
to support his son in all his enterprises.

Emboldened by all these favourable circumstances, Mary pursued the scheme
of extirpating the protestant religion out of her dominions, with the most pre-
cipitant zeal. The laws of Edward VI., in favour of the reformation, were re-
pealed; the protestant clergy ejected; all the forms and rites of the popish
worship were re-established ; the nation was solemnly absolved from the guilt
which it had contracted during the period of its apostasy, and was publicly re-
conciled to the church of Rome by Cardmal Pole, who' immediately after the
queen's marriage,^ was permitted to continue his journey to England, and to
exercise his legatine functions with the most ample power. Not satisfied
with having overtumed the protestant church, and re-establishing the ancient
system on its rains, Mary insisted that all her subjects should conform to the
same mode of worship which she preferred ; should profess their faith in the
same creed which she had approved ; and abjure every practice or opinion
that was deemed repugnant to either of them. _ Powers altogether unknown
in the English constitution, were vested in certain persons appointed to take
cognisance of heresy ; and they proceeded to exercise thern with more than
inquisitorial severity. The prospect of danger, however, did not intimidate
the principal teachers of the protestant doctrines, who believed that they
were contending for truths of the utmost consequence to the happiness of
mankind. They boldly avowed their sentunents, and were condemned to that
cmel death which the church of Rome reserved for its enemies. This shock-
ing punishment was inflicted with that barbarity_ wliich the rancour of false
zeal alone can inspire. The English, who are inferior in humanity to no people
in Europe, and remarkable for the mildness of their public executions, beheld
with astonishment and horror persons who had fiUed the most respectable
stations in the church, and who were venerable on account of their age, their
piety, and their literature, condemned to endure torments to which their laws
did not subject even the most atrocious criminals.

This extreme rigour did not accomplish the end at which Mary aimed.
The patience and fortitude with which these martyrs for the reformation
submitted to their sufferings, the heroic contempt of death expressed by
persons of every rank, and age, and sex, confirmed many more in the pro-
testant faith, than the threats of their enraged persecutors could frighten mto
apostasy. _ The business of such as were entrusted with trying heretics multi-
plied continually, and appeared to be as endless as it was odious. The queen's
ablest ministers became sensible how impolitic, as well as dangerous, it was
to irritate the people by the frequent spectacle of public executions, which
they detested as no less unjust than cruel. Even Philip was so thoroughly
convinced of her having run to an excess of rigour, that, on this occasion, he
assumed a part to which he was little accustomed, becoming an advocate for
moderation and lenity.-''

But, notwithstanding this attempt to ingratiate himself with the English,
they discovered a constant jealousy and distrust of all his intentions ; and
when some members, who had been gained by the court, ventured to move
in the house of commons that the nation ought to assist the emperor, the
Queen's father-in-law, in his war a^amst Erance, the proposal was rejected
with general dissatisfaction. A motion wliich was made, that the parliament

'* Godwin's Annals of Q. Mary ap. Kennet, ii. p. 329. Burnet's Hist, of Reform, ii.
pp. 298, 305.

BOOK XI.] henry's campaign AGAINST CHAELES. 447

should ^ive its consent that Philip might be publicly crowned as the queen's
husband, met with such a cold reception that it was instantly vrithdrawn."

The kins of ^France had observed the progress of the emperoi-'s negotiation
in England with much uneasiness. The great accession oi territories as well
as reputation which his enemy would acquire by the mamage of his son with
the queen of such a powerful kingdom, was obvious and formidable. He easily
foresaw that the English, notwithstanding all their fears and precautions,
would soon be drawn in to take part in the quarrels on the continent, and be
compelled to act in subserviency to the emperor's ambitious schemes. Eor
this reason, Hemy had given it in charge to his ambassador at the court of
London to employ all his address in order to defeat or retard the treaty of
marriage ; and as there was not, at that time, any prince of the blood in France,
whom he could propose to the queen as a husband, he instructed him to co-
operate with such of the English as wished their sovereign to many one of
her own subjects. But the queen's ardour and precipitation in closing with
the first overtures in favour of Philip, having rendered all his endeavours in-
eftectual, Henry was so far from thinking it prudent to give any aid to the
English malecontents, though earnestly solicited by Wyat and their other
leaders, who tempted him to take him under his protection, by offers of great
advantage to Prance, that he commanded his ambassador to congratulate the
queen in the warmest terms upon the suppression of the insurrection.

Notwithstanding^ these external professions, Hemy dreaded so much the
consequences of tins alliance, which more than compensated for all the em-
peror had lost in Germany, that he determined to carry on his military opera-
tions, both in the Low Countries and in Italy, with extraordinary vigour, in
order that he might compel Charles to accept of an equitable peace, before
his daughter-in-law could surmount the aversion of her subjects to a war on
tlie continent, and prevail on them to assist the emperor either with money
or troops. Por this purpose, he exerted himself to the utmost, in order to
have a numerous ai-mv assembled on the frontiers of the Netherlands ; and
while one part of it laid waste the open country of Artois, the main body,
under the constable Montmorencv, advanced towards the provinces of Liege
and Hainault by the forest of Ardemies.

The campaign was opened with the siege of Mariemburg, a town which the
queen of Hungary, the governess of the Low Countries, had fortified at great
expense ; but being destitute of a sufficient garrison, it surrendered iii six
days. Henry, elated with this success, put himself at the head of his army,
anil, investing Bouvines, took it by assault, after a short resistance, "With
equal facility, he became master of Diaant ; and then, turning to the left,
bent his march towards the province of Artois. The large sums which the
emperor had remitted into England, had so exhausted his treasury, as to
render Ins preparations at this juncture slower and more dilatory than usual.
He had no body of troops to make head against the Prench at their first
entrance into his territories ; and though he drew together all the forces in
the country in the utmost hurry, and gave the command of them to Emanuel
Phdibert of Savoy, they were in no condition to face an enemy so far superior
in number. The prince of Savoy, however, by his activity and good conduct,
made up for his want of troops' By watching all the motions of the Prench
at a distance, and by choosing his own posts with skill, he put it out of their
power either to fonn anv siege of consequence, or to attack him. _ Want of
subsistence soon obHgea them to faU back towards their own frontiers, after
having burnt sJl the open towns, and having plundered the country through

" Carte's Hist, of England, iii. p. 314.

448 SCHEMES or COSMO DE' MEDICI. [liOOK XI.

which, they marched, with a cruelty and license more becoming a body of light
troops than a royal army led by a great monarch.

But Henry, that he might not dismiss his army without attempting some
conquest adequate to the great preparations, as well as sanguine hopes, with
which he had opened the campaign, invested Renti, a place deemed in that
age of great importance, as, by its situation on the confines of Artois and the
Boulonnois, it covered the former pro vmce, and protected the parties which
made incursions into the latter. The town, which was strongly fortified, and
provided with a numerous garrison, made a gallant defence ; but being warmly
pressed by a powerful army, it must soon have yielded. The emperor, who
at that time enjoyed a short interval of ease from the gout, was so soKcitous
to save it, that, although he could bear no other motion but that of a litter,
he instantly put himself at the head of his army, which, having received
several reinforcements, was now strong enough to approach the enemy. The
French were eager to decide the fate of Renti by a battle, and expected it
from the emperor's anival in his camp ; but Charles avoided a general action
with great industiy, and, as he had nothing in view but to save the to\vn,
he hoped to accomplish that, without exposing himself to the consequences of
such a dangerous and doubtful event.

Notwithstanding all his precautions, a dispute about a post, which both
armies endeavoured to seize, brought on an engagement which proved almost
general. The duke of Guise, who commanded the wing of the French which
stood the brunt of the combat, displayed valour and conduct worthy of the
defender of Metz; the imperialists, after an obstinate struggle were re-
pulsed ; the French remained masters of the post in dispute ; and if the con-
stable either from his natural caution and slowness, or from unwillingness
to support a rival whom he hated, had not delayed bringing up the main
body to second the unpression which Guise had made, the rout of the enemv
must have been complete. The emperor, notwithstanding the loss which
he had sustained, continued in the same camp ; and the French, being
straitened for provisions, and findingit impossible to carry on the siege in
the face of a hostile army, quitted their entrenchments. They retired openly,
courting the enemy to approach, rather than shuiming an engagement.

But Charles, having gained his end, suffered them to march off unmo-
lested. As soon as his troops entered _ their own country, Henry threw gar-
risons into the frontier towns, and dismissed the rest of the army. This
encouraged the imperialists to push forward with a considerable body of
troops into Picardy, and, by laymg waste the country with fire and sword,
they endeavoured to revenge themselves for the ravages which the French
had committed in Hainault and Artois.^® But, as they were not able to
reduce any place of importance, they gained nothing more than the enemy had
done by this cruel and inglorious method of carrying on the war.

The arms of France were still more unsuccessful in Italy .^ The footing
which the French had acquired in Siena, occasioned much uneasiness to Cosmo
de' Medici, the most sagacious and enterprising of all the Italian princes.
He dreaded the neighbourhood of a powerful people, to whom all who fa-
voured the ancient republican government in Florence would have recourse,
as to their natural protectors, against that absolute authority which the em-
peror had enabled him to usurp ; he knew how odious he was to the French,
on account of his attachment to the imperial party, and he foresaw that, if
they were permitted to gather strength m Siena, Tuscany would so9n feel
the effects of their resentment. For these reasons, he wished, with the
utmost solicitude, for the expulsion of the French out of the Sienese, before

» Thuan. pp. 460, &c. Haraei Ann. Brab. t). 674.

BOOK XI.] HIS PREPARATIONS iOR WAR WITH FRANCE. 449

they had liad time to establish themselves thorouglily in the country, or to
receive such reinforcements from France as would render it dangerous to
attack them. As this, however, was properly the emperor's business, who
was called by his interest as well as honour to dislodge those formidable in-
truders into the heart of his dominions, Cosmo laboured to throw the whole
burden of the enterprise on him ; and, on that account, had given no assist-
ance, during the former campaign, but by advancing some small sums of
money towards the payment of the imperial troops.

But as the defence of the Netherlands engrossed all the emperor's at-
tention, and his remittances into England had drained his treasury, it was
obvious that liis operations in Italy would be extremely feeble ; and Cosmo
plainly perceived, that if he himself did not take part openly in the war,
and act with vigour, the Prench would scarcely meet with any annoyance.
As his situation rendered this resolution necessary and unavoidable, his next
care was to execute it in such a manner, that he might derive from it some
other advantage, besides that of driving the French out of his neighbour-
hood. AVith this view, he despatched an envoy to Charles, offering to de-
clare war against France and to reduce Siena at his own charges, on con-
dition that he should be repaid whatever he might expend in the enterprise,
and be permitted to retain all his conquests until his demands were fully
satisfied. Charles, to whom at tliis junctui'e, the war against Siena wiis an
intolerable burden, and who had neither expedient nor resource that could
enable him to cany it on with proper vigour, closed gladly with this over-
ture ; and Cosmo, well acquainteci with the low state of the imperial finances,
flattered liimseK that the emperor, finding it impossible to reimburse him,
would suffer him to keep quiet possession of whatever places he should con-
quer.2"

Full of these hopes, he made great preparations for war, and as the French
king had turned the strength of his arms against the INetherlands, he did
not despair of assembling such a body of men as would prove more than a
sufficient match for any force which Hem'y could bring into the field in
Italy. He endeavoured, by giving one of his daughters to the pope's nephew,
to obtain assistance from the holy see, or at least to secure his remaining
neutral. He attempted to detach the duke of Orsini, whose family had been
long attached to the French party, from his ancient confederates, by bestow*
ing on him another of his daughters ; and, what was of greater consequence;
than either of these, he engaged John James Medecino, marquis of Marignano,,
to take the command of his army,"* This officer, from a very low condition in.
life, had raised himself, through all the ranks of service, to high command,,
and had displayed talents, and acquired reputation in war, which entitled him
to be placed on a level with the greatest generals in that martial age. Having
attained a station of eminence so disproportionate to his birth, he laboured,
with a fond solicitude, to conceal his original obscuiity, by giving out that
he was descended of the family of Medici, to which honour the casual re-
semblance of his name was his only pretension. Cosmo, happy that he could
{^ratify him at such an easy rate, flattered his vanity in this point, acknow-
edged him as a relation, and permitted him to assume the arms of liis family.
Medecino, eager to serve the head of that family of which he now considered
himself as a branch, applied with wonderful zeal and assiduity to raise troops ;
and as, during his long service, he had acquired great credit with the leaders
of those mercenary bands which fonned the strength of Italian armies, he en-
gaged the most eminent of them to follow Cosmo's standard.

2^ Adriani, Tstorir. de' suoi Tempi, vol. i. p. 662.
w Ibid. p. 663.

2g

450 THE PliENCH IN ITALY [JNDEE. STRoZZI. [BOOK XL

To oppose this able general, and the fonnidable anny which he had ar^
sembled, the king of France made choice of Peter Strozzi, a Florentine noble-
man, who had resided long in France as an exile, and who had risen by his
merit to high reputation as well as command in the armv. He was the son of
Philip Strozzi, who, in the year one thousand five hundred and thirty-seven,
had concarred with such ardour in the attempt to expel the family of Medici
out of Florence, in order to re-establish the ancient republican form of go-
vernment, and who had perished in the undertaking. The son inherited the
implacable aversion to the Medici, as well as the same enthusiastic zeal
for the liberty of Florence which had animated his father, whose death lie
was impatient to revenge. Henry flattered himself that his army would make
rapid progress under a general whose zeal to promote his interest was roused
and seconded by such po\verful passions ; especially as he had allotted him,
for the scene of action, his native country, in which he had many iDower-
ful partisans, ready to facilitate all his operations.

JBut how specious soever the motives might appear which induced Henry
to make this choice, it proved fatal to the interests of France in Italy.
Cosmo, as soon as he heard that the mortal enemy of his family was ap-
pointed to take the command in Tuscany, concluded that the king of France
aimed at something more tlian the protection of the Sienese, and saw the ne-
cessity of making extraordinary efforts, not merely to reduce Siena, but to
save himself from destruction.-^ At the same time the cardinal of Ferrara,
who had the entire direction of the French aHairs in Italy, considered Strozzi
as a formidable rival in power, and, in order to prevent his acquiring any in-
crease of authority from success, he was extremely remiss in supplying him
either with money to pay his troops, or with provisions to support them,
Strozzi himself, blinded by his resentment against the Medici, pushed on his
operations with the impetuosity of revenge, rather than with the caution and
prudence becoming a great general.

At first, however, he attacked several towns in the territory of Florence
with such vigour as obliged Medecino, in order to check his progress, to with-
draw the greater part of his army from Siena, which he had invested before
Strozzi's arrival in Italy. As Cosmo sustained the whole burden of military
operations, the expense of which must soon have exhausted his revenues ;
as neither the viceroy of Naples nor governor of Milan was in condition to
afford him any effectual aid; and as the troops which Medecino had left in
the camp before Siena could attempt nothing against it during his absence,
it was Strozzi's business to have protracted the war, and to have transferred
the seat of it into the territories of Florence ; but the hope of ruining his
enemy by one decisive blow, precipitated him into a general engagement,
not far from Marciano. The armies were nearly equal in number; but a
body of Italian cavalry, in which Strozzi placed great confidence, havmg fled
without making any resistance, either through the treachery or cowardice
of the officers who commanded it, his infantry remained exposed to the
attacks of all Medecino's troops. JEncouraged, however, by Strozzi's pre-
sence and example, who, after receiving a dangerous wound in endeavouiing
to rally the cavalry, placed himself at the head of the infantry, and mani-
fested an admirable presence of mind, as well as extraordinary valour, they
stood their ground with great firmness, and repulsed such of the enemy as
ventured to approach them. But those gallant troops being surrounded at
last on every side, and torn in pieces by a battery of camion which Me-
decino brought to bear upon them, the Florentine cavalry broke in on their
Hanks, and a general rout ensued. Strozzi, faint with the loss of blood,

2» Fecci, Meraorie di Siena, vol. iv. pp. 103, &c.

BOOK XI.] THE SIEGE A.ND CAPITULATION OF SIEXA. 451

and deeply affected with the fatal consequences of his own rashness, found
the utmost difficulty in making liis escape with a liantlful of men.^^

Mcdecino returned immediately to the siege of Siena witli his victorious
forces, and as Strozzi could not, after the greatest efibrts of activity, collect
as many men as to form the a^)iiearance of a regular army, he had leisure to
carry on his approaches against the town witliout molestation. But the
Sienese, instead of sinking into despair upon this cruel disappointment of
their only hope of obtaining relief, prepared to defend themselves to the
utmost extreinity, with that undaunied fortitude wliich the love of liberty
alone can inspire. This generous resolution was warmly seconded byMonluc,
who commanded the Erencli garrison in the town. Tlie active and enterpris-
ing courage which he had displayed on many occasions, liad procured him
this command; and as he had ambition wldch aspired at the highest militarj-
dignities, without any pretensions to attain them but what he could derive
from merit, he determined to distinguish his defence of Siena by extraordmary
eiforts of valour and perseverance. For this purpose, he repaired and
strengthened the fortifications with unwearied industry ; he trained the citizens
to the use of arms, and accustomed them to go through the fatigues and
dangers of service in common with the soldiers ; and as the enemy were ex-
tremely strict in guarding all the avenues to the cit.v, he husbanded the pro-
visions in tlie magazines with the most parsimonious economy, and prevailed
on the soldiers, as well as the citizens, to restrict themselves to a very mo-
derate daily allowance for their subsistence. Medecino, though his army was
not numerous enough to storm the town by open force, ventured twice to
assault it by surprise ; but he was received each time \vdth so much spirit, and
repulsed with such loss, as discouraged him from repeating the attempt, and
lelt him no hopes of reducing the town but by famine.

"Vlith this view he fortified his camp with gr'cat care, occupied all the posts
of strength round the place, and having cut off the besieged from any com-
munication Nvith the adjacent country, he waited patiently until necessity
should compel them to open their gates. But their eutliusiastic zeal for
liberty made the citizens despise the distresses occasioned by the scarcity of
provisions, and supported them long under all the miseries of famme:
Monluc, by his example and exliortations, taught his soldiers to vie with them
in patience and abstinence ; and it was not until they liad withstood a siege
of ten months, until they had eaten up all the horses, dogs, and other animds
in the place, and were reduced almost to their last morsel of bread, that
they proposed a capitulation. [1555.] Even then they demanded honour-
able terms; and as Cosmo, though no stranger to the extremity of their
condition, was afraid that despair might prompt them to ventur-e upon some
wild enterprise, he immediately granted them conditions more favourable than
they could have expected.
The capitulation was made in the emperor's name, who engaged to take
le republic of Siena under the protection of the empire ; he promised to
laintain the ancient liberties of the city, to allow the magistrates the full
Lercise of their former authority, to secure the citizens in tlie undisturbed
jssession of their privileges and property ; he granted an ample and unlimited
rdon to all who had borne arms against him ; he reserved to himself the
;ht of placing a garrison in the town, but engaged not to rebuild the citadel
ithout the consent of the citizens. Monluc and his French garrison were
lowed to march out \vith all the honours of war.

I Medecino observed the articles of capitulation, as far as depended on him,
'"'■ great exactness. No violence or insult whatever was oilered to the in-

30 Pecci, Memorie di Siena, vol. iv. p. 157.

452 HUMILIATION OF THE SIENESE. [BOOK XI.

habitants, and the Trench garrison was treated with all the respect due to
their spirit and. bravery. But many of the citizens suspecting, from the ex-
traordinary facility with which they had obtained such favourable conditions,
that the emperor, as well as Cosmo, would take the first opportunity of vio-
lating them, and disdaining to possess a precarious liber ty, which depended
on the will of another, abandoned the pla'ce of their nativity, and accom-
panied the Erench to Monte-Alcino, Porto Ercole, and other small towns in
the territory of the repubHc. They established in Monte-Alcino the same
model of government to which they had been accustomed at Siena, and
appointing magistrates with the same titles and jurisdiction, solaced them-
selves with this image of their ancient liberty.

The fears of the Sienese concerning the fate of their countrv were not
imaginary, or their suspicion of the emperor and Cosmo ill-founded ; for no
sooner had the imperial troops taken possession of the town, than Cosmo,
without regarding the articles of capitulation, not only displaced the magis-
trates who were in office, and nominated new ones devoted to his own inte-
rest, but commanded all the citizens to deliver up their arms to persons
whom he appointed to receive them. They submitted to the former from
necessity, though with all the reluctance and regret which men accustomed
to liberty feel in obeying the first commands of a master. They did not yield
the same tame obedience to the latter; and many persons of distinction,
rather than degrade themselves from the rank of freemen to the condition of
slaves, by surrendering their arms, fled to their countrymen at Monte-AJcino,
and chose to endure all the hardships, and encounter all the dangers, whicli
they had reason to expect in that new station, where they had fixed the seat
of their republic.

Cosmo, not reckoning himself secure while such numbers of implacable
and desperate enemies were settled in his neighbourhood, and retained any
degree of power, solicited Medecino to attack them in their different places
of retreat, before they had time to recruit their strength and spirits, after the
many calamities wliich they had suffered. He prevailed on him, though his
army was much weakened by hard duty during the siege of Siena, to invest
Porto Ercole ; and, the fortifications being both slight and incomplete, tlie
besieged were soon compelled to open their gates. An unexpected order,
which Medecino received from the emperor to detach the greater part of his
troops into Piedmont, prevented further operations, and permitted the
Sienese exiles to reside for some time undisturbed in Monte-Alcino. But
their unhappy countrymen who remained at Siena were not yet at the end of
their sufi'erings ; for the emperor, instead of adhering to the articles of capi-
tulation, granted his son Pliilip the investiture of that city and all its de-
pendencies ; and Francis de Toledo, in the name of their new master, pro-
ceeded to settle the civil and military government, treated them like a con-
quered people, and subjected them to tne Spanish yoke, without paying any
regard whatever to their privileges or ancient form of government.^'

The imperial army in. Piedmont had been so feeble for some time, and its
commander so inactive, that the emperor, in order to give vigour to his
operations in that quarter, found it necessary not only to recal Medecino' s
troops from Tuscany while in the career of conquest, but to employ in Pied-
mont a general of such reputation and abilities, as might counterbalance the
great military talents of the Marechal Brissac, who was at the head of the
JTrench forces in that country.

»» Sleid. p. 617. Thuan, lib. xv. pp. 526, 537. Joan. Camerarii Adnot. Ker. praeci-
puarum ab anno 1550 ad 1561 ap. Freherum, vol. iii. p. 564. Pecci, Memorie di
Siena, iv. pp. 64, &c.

BOOK XI.] OPERATIONS OP THE FEENCH IN PIEDMONT. 453

He pitcljed on the duke of Alva for that purpose ; but that choice -was as
much the effect of a court intrigue, as of his opinion witli respect to the
duke's merit. Alva had Ions made court to Philip with the utmost assiduity,
and had endeavoured to work himself into his confidence by all the insinuating
arts of which his haughty and inflexible nature was capable. As he nearly
resembled that prince in many features of his character, he began to gain
much of liis good-will, lluy Gomez de Silva. Philip's favourite, who dreaded
the progress which this formidable rival made in his master's affections, had
the address to prevail with the emperor to name Alva to this command. The
duke, though sensible that he owed this distinction to the malicious arts of
an enemy, who had no other aim than to remove him at a distance from court,
was of such punctilious honour, that he would not decline a command that
appeared dangerous and difficult, but, at the same time, was so haughty, that
he would not accept of it but on his own terms, insisting on being appointed
the emperor's vicar-general in Italy, with the supreme militarv command in
all the imperial and Spanish territories in that country. Charles granted all
his demands ; and he took possession of his new dignity with almost unlimited
authority.

His first operations, however, were neither proportioned to his former
reputation, and the extensive powers with which he was invested, nor did they
come up to the emperor's expectations. Brissac had under his command an
army which, thou^n inferior in number to the imperialists, was composed of
chosen troops, which having grown old in service in that country, where every
town was fortified, and every castle capable of being defended, were perfectly
acquainted with the manner of carrying on war there. By their valour, and
his own good conduct, Brissac not only defeated all the attempts of the im-
perialists, but added new conquests to the territories of which he was for-
merly master. Alva, after having boasted, with his usual arrogance, that he
would drive the Erench out of Piedmont in a few weeks, was obliged to retire
into winter-quarters, with the mortification of being unable to preserve entire
that part of the country of which the emperor had hitherto kept possession.^'

As the operations of this campaign in Piedmont were indecisive, those in
the Netherlands were inconsiderable, neither the emperor nor king of Prance
being able to bring into the field an army strong enough to undertake any
enterprise of moment. But what Charles wanted in force, he endeavoured to
supply by a bold stratagem, the success of which would have been equal to
that of the most vigorous campaign. During the siege of Metz, Leonard,
father guardian of a convent of Franciscans in that city, had insinuated him-
self far into the esteem and favour of the duke of Guise by his attachment to
the French. Being a man of an active and intriguing spirit, he had been
extremely useful both in animating the inhabitants to sustain with patience
all the hardships of the siege, and in procuring intelligence of the enemy's
designs and motions. The merit of those important services, together with
the warm recommendations of the duke of Guise, secured him sucli high con-
fidence with YieUeville, who was appointed governor of Metz when Guise left
the town, that he was permitted to converse or correspond with whatever
persons he thought fit, and nothing that he did created any suspicion. This
monk, from the levity natural to bold and projectiug adventurers ; or from
resentment against the French, who had not Destowed on him such rewards
as he thought due to his own merit ; or tempted by the unlimited confidence
which was placed in him, to imagine that he might carry on and accomplish any
scheme with perfect security, iormed a design of betraying Metz to the im-
perialists.

*2 Tbuan. lib. xv. p. 520. Guichenon, Hist, de Savoic, torn. i. p. 670.

454 'JONt>PIRACY TO BETRAY KliTZ. [UOOK XI.

He communicated his intentions to the queen-dowai2:er of Hungary, who
governed the Low Countries in the name of her brother. She ajjproviu^,
without any scruple, any act of treachery from which the emperor might
derive such signal advantage, assisted the father guardian in concerting the
most proper plan for ensuring its success. They agreed that the father
guardian should endeavour to gain his monks to concur in promoting the de-
sign; that he_ should introduce into the convent a certain number of chosen
soldiers, disguised m the habit of friars ; that, when everything Avas ripe for
execution, the governor of Thionviilc should march towards Metz in the night
with a considerable body of troops, and attempt to scale the ramparts ; that
while the garrison was employed in resisting the assailants, the monks should
set fire to the town in different places ; that the soldiers who lay concealed
should sally out of the convent, and attack those who defended the ramparts
in the rear. Amidst the uiiiversal terror and confusion which events so un-
expected would occasion, it was not doubted but that the imperialists might
become masters of the town. As a recompence for this seiTice, the father
guardian stipulated that he should be appointed bishop of Metz, and ample
rewards were promised to such of his monks as should be most active in co-
operating with him.

The father guardian accomplished what he had undertaken to perform with
great secrecy and despatch. By his authority and arguments, as well as by
the prospect of wealth and honours which he set before his monks, he pre-
vailed on all of them to enter into the conspiracy. He introduced into the
convent, without being suspected, as many soldiers as were thought sufficient.
The governor of Tliionville, apprised in due time of the design, had assembled
a proper number of troops for executing it ; and the moment approached,
which probably would have wrested from Henry the most important of ail
his conquests.

But happily for France, on the very day that was fixed for striking the blow,
Yielleville, an able and intelligent officer, received information from a spy
whom he entertained at Thiouville, that certain Eranciscan friars resorted
frequently thither, and were admitted to many private conferences with the
governor, who was carrying on preparations for some military enterprise
with great despatch, but with a most mvsterious secrecy. This was sufficient
to awaken Vielleville's suspicions. Without communicating these to any
person, he instantly visited the convent of Franciscans ; detected the soldiers
who were concealed there; and forced them to discover as much as they
knew concernuig the nature of the enterprise. The fatlier guardian, who had
gone to Thionvme that he might put the last hand to his machmations, was
seized at the gate as he returned ; and he, in order to save himself from the
rack, revealed all the circumstances of the conspiracy.

Yielleville, not satisfied with having seized the traitors, and havmg frus-
trated their schemes, was solicitous to take advantage of the discoveries wliich
he had made, so as to be revenged on the imperialists. For this purpose he
marched out with the best troops in his garrison, and placing these in ambush
near the road, by which the father guardian had informed him that the governor
of Thionville would approach Metz, he fell upon the unperiaHsts with great
fury, as they advanced in perfect security, witliout suspecting any danger to
be near. Confounded at this sudden attack, by an enemy whom they expected
to sui^rise, they made little resistance : and a great part of the troops em-
ployed in this service, among whom were many persons of distmction, was
killed or taken prisoners. Before next morning, v ielleviUe returned to Metz
in triumph. . -. r i

No resolution was taken for some tmie concerning the fate ot the father
guardian and his monks, the framers and conductors of this dangerous con-

HOOF. XI.] DIET OF AUGSBUItG. 455

spiracy. Regard for the honour of a body so numerous and respectable as
the Franciscans, and unwillingness to ail'ord a subject of triumph to the
enemies of the llomish church by their disgrace, seem to have occasioned
this delay. But, at length, the necessity of inflicting exemplary punishment
upon them, iu order to deter others from venturing to commit the same crime,
became so evident that orders were issued to proceed to their trial. The
guilt was made apparent by the clearest evidence, and sentence of death was
passed upon the father guardian, together with twenty monks. On the even-
mg previous to the day fixed for their execution, the gaoler took them out of
the dungeons in which they had hitherto been confined separately, and shut
them all up in one great room, that thej^ might confess their sins one to
another, and join together in preparing lor a future state. But as soon as
they were left alone, instead of employing themselves in the religious exer-
cises suitable to their condition, they began to reproach the father guardian,
and four of the senior monks wlio had been most active iu seducing them,
for their inordinate ambition which had brought such misery on them, and
such disgrace upon their order. From reproaches thev proceeded to curses
and execrations, and at last, in a frenzy of rage and despair, they fell upon
them with such violence that they murdered the father guardian on the spot,
and so disabled the other four, that it became necessary to carry them next
moruing in a cart, together with the dead body of the father guardian, to the
place of execution. Six of the youngest were pardoned ; the rest suffered the
punislmient wJiich their crime merited.^^

Though both parties, exhausted by the length of the war, carried it on in
this languishiug manner, neither of them showed any disposition to listen to
overtui'cs of peace. Cardinal Pole, • indeed, laboured with all the zeal be-
coming his piety and humanity, to re-establish concord among the princes of
Christendom. He had not only persuaded his mistress, the queen of England,
to enter wannly into his sentim-cnts, and to offer her mediation to the con-
tending powers, but had prevailed both on the emperor and king of France
to send their plenipotentiaries to a village between Gravelines and Ardres.
He himself, together with Gardiner, bishop of Winchester, repaired thither, in
order to preside as mediators in the conferences which were to be held for ad-
justing all the points in difference. But though each of the monarchs com-
mitteof this negotiation to some of their ministers, in whom they placed the
greatest contidence, it was soon e\ident that they came together with no sin-
cere desire of accommodation. Each proposed articles so extravagant that
thev could have no hopes of their being accepted. Pole, after exerting in vain
all his zeal and address, in order to persuade them to relinquish such extra-
vagant demands, and to consent to the substitution of more equal conditions,
became sensible of the folly of wasting time, iu attempting to re-establish
concord between those whom their obstinacy rendered irreconcileable, broke
off the conference, and returaed to England.^*

During these transactions in other parts of Europe, Geiinany enjoyed such
profound tranquillity as afforded the diet full leism-e to deliberate, and to es-
tablish proper regidations concerning a point of the greatest consequence to
the internal peace of the empire. By the treaty of Passau, in one thousand
five hundred and fifty-two, it nad been referred to the next diet of the empire
to confirm and perfect the plan of religious pacification which was there
agreed upon. The terror and confusion with which the violent commotions
excited by Albert of Brandenburg had filled Germany, as well as the constant

'3 Thuan. lib. xv. p. 522. Belcar. Com. Ker. Gal. p. 866. M^raoires du Mardcb.
Vielleville, par M. Charloix, torn. iii. pp. 249, &c,. p. 347. Par. 1757.
»♦ Thuan. lib. xv. p. 523. M^m. de Ribier *"^ ii j,. 613.

456 TEARS OF THE PROTESTAJfTS. [BOOK XI.

attention wliicli Ferdinand was obliged to give to the affairs of Hungary, had
hitherto prevented tlie holding a diet, though it had been summoned, soon
after the conclusion of the treaty, to meet at Augsburg.

But as a diet was now necessary, on many accounts, Ferdinand, about the
beginning ot this year, had repaired to Augsburg. Though few of the princes
were present, either in person or by their deputies, he opened the assembly
by a speech, in which he projjosed a termination of the dissensions to which
the new tenets and controversies with regard to religion had ^iven rise, not
only as the first and great business of the diet, but as the pomt which both
the emperor and he had most at heart. He represented the innumerable ob-
stacles which the emperor had to surmount before he could procure the con-
vocation of a general council, as well as the fatal accidents which had for
some time retarded, and had at last suspended, the consultations of that as-
sembly. He observed that experience had alreadv taught them how vain it
was to expect any remedy for evils which demanded immediate redress, from
a general council, the assembling of which would either be prevented, or its
deliberations be interrupted, by the dissensions and hostilities of the princes
of Christendom ; that a national council in Germany, which, as some unagined,
might be called with greater ease, and deliberate with more perfect security,
was an assembly of an unprecedented nature, the jurisdiction of which was
uncertain in its extent, and the form of its proceedings undefined ; that, in
his opinion, there remained but one method for composing their unliappy
differences, which, though it had been often tried without success, might yet

{)rove effectual if it were attempted with a better and more pacific spirit than
lad appeared on former occasions, and that was to choose a few men of learn-
ing, abilities, and moderation, who, by discussing the disputed articles, in an
amicable conference, might explain them in such a maimer as to bring the
contending parties either to unite in sentiment, or to differ with charity.

This speech being printed in common form, and dispersed over the empire,
revived tlie fears and jealousies of the prqtestants : Ferdinand, they observed,
with much surprise, had not once mentioned, in his address to the diet, the
treaty of Passau, the stipulations in which they considered as the great se-
curity of their religious liberty. The suspicions to which this gave rise were
confirmed by the accounts which they daily received of the extreme severity
with which Ferdinand treated their protestant brethi-en in his hereditary do-
minions ; and as it was natural to consider his actions as the surest indication
of his intentions, this diminished their confidence in those pompous pro-
fessions of moderation and of zeal for the re-establishment of concord, to
which his practice seemed to be so repugnant.

The arrival of the Cardinal Morone, whom the pope had appointed to attend
the diet as his nuncio, completed their conviction, and left them no room to
doubt that some dangerous macliination was forming against the peace or
safety of the protestant clim'ch. Julius, elated with the unexpected return
of the English nation from apostasy, began to flatter himself that the spirit of
mutiny and revolt having now spent its force, the happy period was come
when the church might resume its ancient authority, and be obeyed by the
people with the same tame submission as formerly. Full of these hopes, he
Lad sent Morone to Augsburg, with instructions to employ his eloquence to
excite the Germans to imitate the laudable example of the English, and his
political address in order to prevent any decree of the diet to the detruneut of
the catholic faith. As Morone inherited from his father, the chancellor of
Milan, uncommon talents for negotiation and intrigue, lie could liardly have
failed of embarrassing the measures of the protestants in the diet, or of de-
feating whatever they aimed at obtaining in it for theii- further security.

BOOK XJ.] DEATH OP POPE JULIUS III. 457

But an unforeseen event delivered them from all the danger wliich they
had reason to ajjprel end from Morone's presence. Julius, py abandoning
himself to pleasures and amusements no less unbecoming his age than his
character, having contracted such habits of dissipation that any serious occu-

Eation, especially if attended ^vith dithculty, became an intolerable burden to
im, had long resisted the solicitations of his nephew to hold a consistory,
because lie expected there a violent opposition to his schemes in favour of
that young man. Eut when all the pretexts which he could invent for eluding
this request were exhausted, and, at the same time, liis indolent aversion to
business continued to grow upon him, he feigned indisposition rather than
yield to his nephew's importunity • and that he might give the deceit a greater
colour of probability, he not only confined himself to his apartment, but
changed his usual diet and manner of life. By persisting too long in acting
this ridiculous part, he contracted a real disease, of which he died in a few
days, leaving his inlamous minion, the Cardinal di Monte, to bear his name,
and to disgrace the dignity which he had conferred upon him." As soon as
Morone heard of his death, he set out abruptly from Augsburg, where he had
resided only a few days, that he might be present at the election of a new
pontilf.

One cause of their suspicions and fears being thus removed, the protestants
soon became sensible that their conjectures concerning Ferdinand's inten-
tions, however specious, were ill founded, and that he had no thoughts of vio-
lating the articles favourable to them in the treaty of Passau. Charles, from
the tmie that Maurice had defeated all his schemes in the empii-e, and over-
tui-ned the great scheme of rehgious and civil despotism which he had almost
established tliere^ gave little attention to the internal government of Ger-
many, and pennitted his brother to pursue whatever measures he judged
most salutary and expedient. Terdinand, less ambitious and enterprismg
than the emperor, instead of resuming a plan w;hich he, with power and re-
sources so tar superior, had failed ot accomplishing, endeavoured to attach
the princes of the emmre to his family by an administration uniformly mode-
rate and equitable. To this he gave at present particular attention, because
his situation at this juncture rendered it necessary to court their favour and
support with more than usual assiduity.

Charles had again resumed his favourite project of acquiring the imperial
crown for his son Philip, the prosecution of which the reception it had met
vrith when first proposed had ooliged him to suspend, but liad not induced
him to relinquish. This led him warmly to renew his request to his brother,
that he would accept of some compensation for his prior right of succession,
and sacrifice that to the grandeur of the house of Austria. Perdinand, who
was as little disposed as formerly to give such an extraordinary proof of self-
denial, being sensible that, in order to defeat this scheme, not only the most
inflexible firmness on his part, but a vigorous declaration from the princes of
the empire in behalf of his title, was requisite, was wilUng to purchase their
favour by gratifying them in every point that they deemed interestmg or es-
sentiid.

At the same time, he stood in need of immediate and extraordinary aid
from the Germanic body, as the Turks, after having wrested from lum great
part of his Hungarian territories, were ready to attack the provinces stili
subject to his authority with a formidable army, against which he could bring
no equal force into the field. Por this aid from Germany he could not hope,
if the internal peace of the empire were not established on a foundation solid

3* Onuphr Panvinius de Vitis Pontificum, p. 320. Thuan. lib. xv. p. 617.

IS6 PUBLICATION 0]? THE RECESS OJ? A'JGSBUBG, [BOOK XI,

in itself, and which should appear even to the protestants so secure and so
permaneat, as might not only allow them to engage in a distant war with
safety, but might encourage them to act in it with vigour.

h. step taken by the protestants themselves, a short time after the opening
of the diet, rendered him still more cautious of giving them any new cause of
oifence.

As soon as the publication of Ferdinand's speech awakened the fears and
suspicions which have been mentioned, the electors of Saxony and Branden-
burg, together with the landgrave of Hesse, met at Naumburg, and, confirm-
ing the ancient treaty of confraternity which had long united thek families,
they added to it a new article, by which the contracting parties bound them-
selves to adhere to the Confession of Augsburg, and lo maintain the doctrine
which it contained in their respective dominions.^G

Ferdmand, influenced by all these considerations, employed his utmost ad-
dress in conducting the deliberations of the diet, so as not to excite the jealousy
of a party on whose friendship he depended, and whose enmity, as they had
not only taken the alarm, but had begun to prepare for their defence, he had
so much reason to dread. The members of the diet readily agreed to Ferdi-
nand's proposal of taking the state of reUgion into consideration, previous to
any other business. But, as soon as they entered upon it, both parties dis-
covered all the zeal and animosity wliich a subject so interesting naturally
engenders, and which the rancour of controversy, together with the violence
of civil war, had inflamed to the highest pitch.

The protestants contended that the security which they claimed,_ in conse-
quence of the treaty of Passau, should extend, without Ihnitation, to all
who had hitherto embraced the doctrine of Luther, or who should hereafter
embrace it. The catholics, having first of all asserted the pope's right as the
supreme and final judge with respect to all articles of faith, declared that
though, on account of the present situation of the empire, and for the sake of
peace, they were willing to confirm the toleration granted by the treaty of
Passau to such as had already adopted the new opinions, they must insist that
this indulgence should not be extended either to those cities which had con-
formed to the Interim, or to such ecclesiastics as should for the future apos-
tatize from the church of Home. It was no easy matter to reconcile such
opposite pretensions, which were supported, on each side, by the most ela-
borate arguments, and the greatest acrimony of expression, that the abilities
or zeal of theologians long exercised in disputation could suggest. Ferdinand,
however, by his address and perseverance ; by softening some things on
each side ; by putting a favourable meaning upon others ; by representing in-
cessantly the necessity as well as the advantages of concord ; and by threaten-
ing on some occasions, when all other considerations were disregarded, to dis-
solve the diet, brought them at length to a conclusion in \yhich they all agreed.

Conformably to this, a recess was framed, approved of, and published with
the usual formalities. The foilowijig are the chief articles wliich it con-
tained : — That such princes and cities as have declared their approbation of
the Confession of Augsburg, shall be permitted to profess the doctrine and
exercise the worship which it authorizes, without interruption or molestation
from the emperor, the king of the Romans, or any power or person whatso-
ever ; that the protestants, on then- part, shall give no disquiet to the princes
and states who adhere to the tenets and rites of the churcli of Home;
that, for the future, no attempt shall be made towards terminating rehgious
differences, but by the gentle and pacific methods of persuasion and conference ;
that the popish ecclesiastics shaD. claim no spiritual jm-isdiction in such states

3« Chytraei Sa5o::ia, p. 480

BOOK XI.J PKI2fCIPI-ES OF TOLERATION. 459

as receive tlie Confession of Augsburg; that such as had seized the benefices
or reveni.es of the church, previous to the treaty of Passau, shall retain pos-
session of them, and be bable to no prosecution in the imperial chamber
on that account; that the supreme civil power in every state shall have right
to establish what foiin of doctrine and worship it shall deem proper, and, it"
any of its subjects refuse to conform to these, shall permit them to remove,
with all their effects, whithersoever thev shall please ; that if any prelate or
ecclesiastic shall hereafter abandon the llomish religion, he shall instantly re-
quish his diocese or benefice, and it shall be lawf id for those in whom the
lit of nomination is vested, to proceed immediately to an election, as if the
ce were vacant, by death or translation, and to appoint a successor of
undoubted attachment to the ancient system."

Such are the capital articles in this famous recess, which is the basis of re-
ligious peace in Germany, and the bond of union amon^ its various states,
the sentiments of which are so extremely difi'erent with respect to points
the most interesting as well as important. In our age and nation, to which
the idea of toleration is familiar, and its beneficial effects well known, it may
seem strange that a method of terminating their dissensions, so suitable to
the mild and charitable spirit of the Christian religion, did not sooner occur
to the contending parties. But tliis expedient, however salutary, was so
repugnant to the sentiments and practice of Christians during many ages, that
it did not lie obvious to discovery. Among the ancient heathens, all whose
deities were local and tutelaiy, diversity of sentiment concerning; the object
or rites of religious worship seems to have been no source of animosity, be-
cause the acknowledging veneration to be due to any one god, did not imply
denial of the existence or the power of any other god ; nor were the modes
and rites of worship estabHshect in one country incompatible with those which
other nations approved of aud observed. Thus the errors in their system of
theology were of such a nature as to be productive of concord; and, not-
withstandmg the amazing number of their deities, as well as the iniinite
variety of their ceremonies, a sociable and tolerating spirit subsisted almost
universally in the pagan world.

But when the Christian revelation declared one Supreme Being to be the
sole obieet of religious veneration, and prescribed the form of worship most
acceptalale to him, whoever admitted the truth of it held, of consequence,
every other system of religion, as a deviation from what was established by
divine authority, to be false and impious. Hence arose the zeal of the first
converts to the Christian faith in propagating its doctrines, and the ardour
with which they laboured to overturn every other form of worship. They em-
ployed, however, for this purpose no methods but such as suited the na-
ture of religion; by the force of powerful arguments, they convinced the
understandings of men; by the charms of superior virtue, they allured
and captivated their hearts. At length the civil power deeUu-ed ia favour
of Christianity ; and though numbers, imitating the example of their supe-
riors, crowded into the church, many still adhered to their ancient supersti-
tions. Enraged at their obstinacy, the ministers of religion, whose zeal was
still unabated, though their sanctity and virtue were much diminished, forgot
so far the nature of their own mission, and of the arguments which they
ought to have employed, that they armed the imperial power against these
unhappy men, anci, as they could not persuade, they tried to compel them to
believe.

At the same time, controversies concerning articles of faith multiplied, from
various causes, among Christians themselves, and the same unhallowed

*' Sleid. p. 620. F Paul. p. 368. Pallav. P. iJ. p. 161.

460 INTOLEllANCE OY RELIGIOUS SECTS. [bOOK XI.

weapons which had first been used against the enemies of their religion,
were turned against each other. Every zealous disputant endeavoured to
interest the civil magistrate in his_ cause, and each in his turn employed the
secular arm to crush or to exterminate his opponents. Not long after, the
bishops of Home put in their claim to infaUibility in explaining articles of
faith, and deciding points in controversy ; and, bold as the pretension was,
they, by their artifices and perseverance, imposed on the credulity of mankind,
and brought them to recognise it._ To doubt or to deny any doctrine to which
these unerring instructors had given the sanction of their approbation was
held to be not only a resisting of truth, but an act of rebellion against their
sacred authority ; and the secular power, of which by various arts they had
acquired the absolute direction, was instantly employed to avenge both.

Thus Europe had been accustomed, during many centuries, to see specu-
lative opinions propagated or defeudecl by force ; the charity and mutual for-
bearance which Christianity recommends with so much warmth, were for-
gotten; the sacred rights of conscience and of private judgment were unheard
of ; and not only the idea of toleration, but even the word itself, in the sense
now affixed to it, was unknown. A right to extirpate error by force was
universally allowed to be the prerogative of such as possessed the knowledge
of truth ; and as each party of Christians believed that they had got pos-
session of this invaluable attainment, they all claimed and exercised, as far as
they were able, the rights which it was supposed to convey. The Roman
catholics, as their system rested on the decisions of an infallible judge, never
doubted that truth was on their side, and openly called on the civil power to
repel the impious and heretical iimovators who had risen up against it. The
protestants, no less confident that their doctrine was well-founded, required,
with equal ardour, the princes of their party to check such as presumed to
impugn it. Luther, Calvin, Cranmer, Knox, the founders of the reformed
church in their respective countries, as far as they had power and opportu-
nity, inflicted the same punishments upon such as called in question any ar-
ticle in their creeds, which were denounced against their own disciples by the
church of Rome, To their followers, and perhaps to their opponents, it would
have appeared a symptom of diffidence in the goodness of their cause, or an
acknowledgment that it was not well founded, it they had not employed in its
defence all those means which it was supposed truth had a right to employ.

It was towards the close of the seventeenth century, before toleration, under
its present form, was admitted first into the republic of the United Provinces,
and from thence introduced into England. Long experience of the calamities
flowing from mutual persecution, the influence of free govermnent, the light
and humanity acquired by the progress of science, together with the prudence
and authority of the civil magistrate, were all requisite in order to establish
a regulation, so repugnant to the ideas which all the difl'erent sects liad
adopted, from mistaken conceptions concerning the nature of religion and
the rights of truth, or which all of them had derived from the erroneous
maxims established by the church of Rome.

The recess of Augsburg, it is evident, was founded on no such liberal and
enlarged sentiments concerning freedom of religious inquiry, or the nature of
toleration.^ It was nothing more than a scheme of pacification, which political
considerations alone had suggested to the contending parties, and regard for
their mutual tranquillity and safety had rendered necessary. Of this there
can be no stronger proof than an article in the recess itself, by which the
benefits of the pacification are declared to extend only to the catholics on the
one side, and to such as adhered to the Confession of Augsburg on the other.
The followers of Zuinglius and Calvin remained, in consequence of that ex-
clusion, without any protection from the rigour of the laws denounced against

BOOK XI. ; PAUL IV. ELECTED POPE. 461

heretics. Nor did they obtain any legal security until the treaty of West
phalia, near a century alter this period, provided, that they should be admitted
to enjoy, in as ample a manner as the Lutlierans, aU the advantages and pro-
tection which the recess of Augsburg affords.

But if the followers of Luther were highly pleased with the security which
they acquired by this recess, such as adhered to the ancient system had no less
reason to be satisfied with that article in it, which preserved entire to the
Roman catholic church the benefices of such ecclesiastics as should hereafter
renounce its doctrines. This article, known in Germany by the name of the
'Ecclesiastical Reservation, was apparently so conformable to the idea and to
the rights of an established cliurcli, and it seemed so equitable to prevent re-
venues which had been originally appropriated for the maintenance of persons
attached to a certain system, from being alienated to any other purpose, that
the Protestants, though they foresaw its consequences, were obliged to relin-
quish their opposition to it. As the Roman catholic princes of the empire
have taken care to see this article exactly observed in every case where there
was an opportunity of putting it in execution, it has proved the great bamer
of the Romish church in Germany against the reformation : and as, from
this period, the same temptation of interest did not allui-e ecclesiastics to re-
linquish the established system, there have been few of that order, who have
loved truth wdth such disinterested and ardent affection, as, for its sake, to
abandon the rich benefices which they had in possession.

During the sitting of the diet, Marcellus Cervino, cardinal di Santo Croce,
was elected pope in the room of Julius. He, in imitation of Adrian, did not
change his name on being exalted to the papal chair. As he equalled that
pontiff' in purity of intention, while he excelled him much in the arts of go-
vernment, and still more in knowledge of the state and genius of the papal
court, as he had capacity to discern what reformation it needed, as weU as
what it could bear; such regulations were expected from his virtue and
wisdom, as would have removed many of its grossest and most flagrant cor-
ruptions, and have contributed towards reconciling to the church such as,
from indignation at these enormities, had abandoned its communion. But
this excellent pontiff was only shown to the church, and immediately snatched
away. The confinement in the conclave had impaired his health, and the
fatigue of tedious ceremonies upon his accession, together with too intense
and anxious application of mind to the schemes of improvement which he
meditated, exhausted so entirely the vigour of his feeble constitution^ that he
sickened on the twelfth, and died on the twentieth day after his election.^^

All the refinements in artifice and intrigue, peculiar to conclaves, were dis-
played in that which was held for electmg a successor to Marcellus; the
cardinals of the imperial and French factions labouring, with equal ardour, to
gain the necessary number of suffrages for one of their own party. But, after
a struggle of no long duration, though conducted with all the warmth and
eagerness natural to men contendmg for so great an object, they united in
choosing Jolm Peter Caraffa, the eldest member of the sacred college, and the
son of Comit Montorio, a nobleman of an illustrious family in the kingdom of
Naples. The address and influence of Cardinal Famese, who favoured his me-
tensions, Caraffa's own merit, and perhaps his gi-eat age, wliich soothed all
the disappointed candidates with the near prospect of a new vacancy, con-
curred in bringing about this speedy union of suffrages. In order to testify
his respect for the memory of Paul III., by whom ne had been created car-
dinal, as well as his gratitude to the family of Famese, he assumed the name
of Paul IV.

" Thuan. p. 520. F. Paul, p. 365. Onuph. Panvin. pp. 321, &c

482 , PAUL*S BISE AND CHARACTER. [BOOK XI.

The choice of a prelate of such a singular character, and who had long held
a course extremely different from that wliich usually led to the dignity now-
conferred upon him, filled the Italians, who had nearest access to observe his
mamiers and dejjortment, with astonishment, and kept them in suspense and
solicitude with rcgard to his future conduct. Paul, though born in a rank
of life which, without any other merit, might have secured to him the highest
ecclesiastical preferments, had, from his early years, applied to study with all
the assiduity of a man who had nothing but his personal attainments to render
him conspicuous. By means of this, he not only acquired profound skill in
scholastic theology, but added to that a considerable knowledge of the learned
languages and of polite literature, the study of which had been lately revived
in Italy, and was pursued at this time with great ardour. His mind, however,
naturally gloomy and severe, was more formed to imbibe the sour spirit of
the former, than to receive any tincture of elegance or liberality of sentiment
from the latter ; so that he acquired rather the qualities and passions of a
recluse ecclesiastic, than tlie talents necessary for the conduct of great affairs.
Accordingly, when he entered into orders, although several rich benefices
were bestowed upon him, and he was early employed as a nuncio in diff'erent
courts, he soon became disgusted with that coui'se of life, and languished to
be in a situation more suited to his taste and temper. With this view, he
resigned at once all his ecclesiastical preferments, and having instituted an
order of regular priests, whom he denominated Theatines, from the name of
the archbishopric which he had held, he associated himself as a member of
their fraternity, conformed to all the rigorous rules to which he had subjected
them, and preferred the solitude of a monastic life, with the honour of being
the founder of a new order, to aU the great objects which the court of Rome
presented to his ambition.

In this retreat he remained for many years, until Paul III., induced by
the fame of his sanctity and knowledge, called bim to Rome, in order to con-
sult with him concerning the measures which might be most proper and
effectual for suppressing heresy, and re-establishing the ancient authority of
the church. Having thus allured liim from his solitude, the pope, partly by
his entreaties and partly by his authority, prevailed on him to accept of a
cardinal's hat, to resume the benefices which he had resigned, and to return
again into the usual path of ecclesiastical ambition which he seemed to have
relinquished. But, during two successive pontificates, under the first of which
the court of Rome was the most artful and interested, and under the second
the most dissolute of any in Europe, Caraffa retained his monastic austerity.
He was an avowed and bitter enemy, not only of all innovation in opinion, but
of every irregularity in practice ; he was the chief instmment in establishing
the formidable and odious tribunal of the inquisition in the papal territories ;
he appeared a violent advocate on all occasions for the jurisdiction and disci-
pline of the church, and a severe censurer of every measui-e which seemed to
liow from motives of policy or interest, rather than from zeal for the honour
of the ecclesiastical order, and the dignity of the holy see. Under a prelate
of such a character, the Roman courtiers expected a severe and violent pon-
tificate, during which the principles of sound pohcy would be sacrificed to
the narrow prejudices of priestly zeal ; while the people of Rome were appre-
hensive of seeing the sordid and forbidding rigour of monastic manners sub-
stituted in place of the magnificence to whicli they had been long accustomed
in the papal court. These apprehensions Paul was extremely solicitous to
remove. At his first entrance upon the administration, he laid aside that
austerity which had hitherto distinguished his person and family ; and when
the master of the household inquired in what manner he would choose to
live, he haughtily replied, " As becomes a great prince." He ordered the

BUOIC Xl.j AMBITIOUS SCllKMEri Ul' HIS MA iIj.v.s. ■ioS

ceremony of bis coronation to be conducted with more than usual pomp; asd
endeavoured to render himself popular by several acts of liberality and m-
dulgeuce towards the inliabltants of llome.^'

His natural severity of temper, however, would have soon returned upon
him, and would have justified the conjectures of the courtiers, as well as the
fears of the people, if he had not, mimediatcly after his election, called to
llome two of his nephews, tiie sons of his brother, the count of Montorio.
The eldest he promoted to be governor of Kome : the youngest, who had
hitherto served as a soldier of fortune in the amiies of Spain and Trance,
and wliose disposition as well as manners were siill more foreign from the
clericid character than his profession, he created a cardinal, and appointed
him legate of Bologna, the second office in power and dignity which a pope
can bestow. These marks of favour, no less sudden than extravagant, he ac-
companied with the most unbounded eon£dence and attachment : and, for-
gettmg all his former severe maxims, he seemed to have no other object than
the aggrandizing of his nephews. Their ambition, imfortimately for Paul,
was too aspiring to be satisfied with any moderate acquisition. They had
seen the family of Medici raised by the interest of the popes of that house to
supreme power in Tuscany; Paul III. had, by his abilities and address, se-
cui-ed the duchies of Parma and Placentia to the family of Pamese. They
aimed at some establishment for themselves, no less considerable and inde-
pendent ; and as they could not expect that the pope would cany his in-
dulgence towards them so far as to secularize any part of the patrimonv of the
church, they had no prospect of attaining what they wished, but by dismem-
beiing the imperial aomiiiions in Italy, in hopes of seizing some portion of
them. This alone they would have deemed a sufficient reason for sowing the
seeds of discord between their uncle and the emperor.

But Cardinal Caralfa had, besides, private reasons which filled liim with
hatred and enmity to the emperor. While he served in the Spanish troops,
he had not received such marks of honour and distinction as he thought due
to his birth and merit. Disgusted with this ill-usage, he had abruptly ciuitted
the imperial service, and entering into that of Prance, he had not only met
with such a reception as soothetl his vanity and attached him to the Prencn
interest, but by contracting an intimate friendship with Strozzi, who com-
manded ,the Prench army in Tuscany, he had imbibed a mortal antipathv to
the emperor as the great enemy to the Hberty and independence of the Italian
states. Kor was the pope himself indisposed to receive impressions unfavour-
able to the emperor. 1 he opposition given to his election by the cardinals of
the imperial faction left in his mind deep resentment, which was heightened
by the remembrance of ancient injuries from Charles or his ministers. _

Of this his nephews took advantage, and employed various devices, in order
to exasperate mm beyond a possiBility of reconciliation. They aggravated
every circumstance which could be deemed any indication of the emperor's
dissatisfaction with his promotion they read to him an intercepted letter, in
which Charles taxed the cardinals of his party with negligence or incapacity
in not having defeated Paul's election ; they pretended, at one time, to have
discovered a conspiracy formed by the imperial minister and Cosmo de'
Medici against the pope's life ; they alanned hun at another, with accounts
of a plot for assassinating themselves. By these artifices they kept his mind,
which was naturally violent, and become suspicious from old a^e, ui such
perpetual agitation, as precipitated him into measures which otherwise he
would have been the first person to condemn.'" He seized some of the car-

. «*> Phitlna, p. 327. Castaldo, Vita di Paolo IV. Rom. 1615, p. 70.

«<► Hipamontii Hist. Patriae, lib iii. p. 1146, ap. Graev. Tlies. vol ii. M^m. de Koior,
m -i^. 615. Adriuiii. Istor. :. p. 906.

464 PAUL SEEKS THE PROTECTION OP FRANCE. []JOOK XI.

dinals who were most attached to the emperor, and confined them in the castle
oi; St. Angelo; he persecuted the Colonnas, and other Roman barons, the
ancient retainers to the imperial faction, with the utmost severity ; and, dis-
covering on all occasions his distrust, fear, or hatred of the emperor, he began
at last to court the friendship of the Erench king, and seemed willing to throw
himself absolutely upon him for support and protection.

This was the very point to which Ids nephews wished to bring him, as most
favourable to their ambitious schemes ; and as the accomplishment of these
depended on their uncle's life, whose advanced age did not admit of losing a
moment unnecessarily in negotiations, instead of treating at second-hand
with the Erench ambassador at Home, they prevailed on the pope to despatch
a person of confidence directly to the court of Erance, with such overtures
on his part as they hoped would not be rejected. He proposed an alliance
oifensive and defensive between Henry and the pope ; that they should attack
the duch^ of Tuscany and the kingdom of Naples with their united forces ;
and if their arms should prove successful, that the ancient republican form of
government should be re-established in the former, and the investiture of the
latter should be granted to one of the Erench king's sons, after reserving a
certain territory which should be annexed to the patrimony of the church, to-
gether with an independent and princely establishment for each of the pope's
nephews.

^ The king, allured by these specious projects, gave a most favourable au-
dience to the envoy. But when the matter was proposed in council, the
Constable Montmorency, whose natural caution and aversion to daring enter-
prises increased with age and experience, remonstrated with great vehe-
mence against the allianoe. He put Henry in mind how fatal to Erance every
expedition into Italy had been during three successive reigns ; and if such an
enterprise had proved too great for the nation, even when its strength and
finances were entire, there was no reason to hope for success if it should be
attempted now, when both were exhausted by extraordmary efforts during
wars which had lasted, with little interruption, almost half a century. He
represented the manifest imprudence of entering into engagements with a
pope of fourscore, as any system which rested on no better foundation than
his life must be extremely precarious; and upon the event of his death,
which could not be distant, the face of things, together with the inclination
of the Italian states, must instantly change, and the whole weight of the war
be left upon the king alone. To these considerations he added the near
prospect which they now had of a final accommodation with the emperor,
who, having taken the resolution of retiring from the world, wished to trans-
mit his kingdoms in peace to his son ; and he concluded with representing
the absolute certainty of drawing the arms of England upon Erance, if it
should appear that the re-establishment of tranquillity in Europe was pre-
vented by the ambition of its monarch.

These arguments, weighty in themselves, and urged by a minister of great
authority, would probably have determined the king to decline any connexion
with the pope ; but the duke of Guise, and his brother, the cardinal of Lor-
rain, who delighted no less in bold and dangerous undertakings than Mont-
morency shunned them, declared warmly for an alliance with the pope. The
cardinal expected to be intrusted with the conduct of the negotiations in the
court of E-ome to which this alliance would give rise ; the duke hoped to
obtain the command of the army which would be appointed to invade
Naples ; and, considering themselves as already in these stations, vast pro-
jects opened to their aspiring and unbounded ambition. Their credit, to-
other with the influence of the king's mistress, the famous Diana of ToiC-
fiers, who was at that time entirely devoted to the interest of the family uf
Crmse, more than counterbalanced ail Montmoreiicy's prudent remonstraiioefi^

BOOK XI.] LOKRAIN'S MISSION TO ROME. 465

and prevailed on an inconsiderate prince to listen to the overtures of tlie
pone^s envoy.

The cardinal of Lorrain, as he had expected, was immediately sent to
Rome with full powers to conclude the treaty, and to concert measure for
carrying it into execution. Before lie could reach that city, the pope, either
from reflecting on the danger and uncertain issue of all military operations,
or through the address of the imperial ambassador, wno had been at great
pains to soothe him, had not only begun to lose much of the ardour with
which he had commenced the negotiation with Prance, but even discovered
great unwillingness to continue it. In order to rouse him from this tit of des-
pondency, and to rekindle his former rage, his nephews had recourse to
the arts which they had already practised with so much success. They alarmed
liim with new representations* of the emperor's hostile intentions, with fresh
accounts which they had received of tlu-eats uttered against him by the im-
perial ministers, and with new discoveries which they pretended to have made
of conspiracies formed, and just ready to take effect, against his life.

But these artifices, having been formerly tried, would not have operated a
second time with the same force, nor have made the impression which they
wished, if Paul had not been excited by an offence of that kind which he
was least able to bear. He received advice of the recess of the diet of Augs-
burg, and of the toleration which was thereby granted to the protestants ; and
this threw him at once into such transports of passion a^amst the emperor
and king of the Romans, as carried him headlong into all the violent mea-
sures of his nephews. Pull of high ideas with respect to the papal prero-
gative, and ammated with the fiercest zeal against heresy, he considered
ihe liberty of deciding concerning religious matters, wliich had been assumed
by an assembly composed chiefly of laymen, as a presumptuous and unpar-
donable encroachment on that jurisdiction which belonged to him alone ; and
regarded the indulgence which had been given to the protestants as an impious
act of that power which the diet had usurped. He complained loudly of
both to the imperial ambassador. He insisted that the recess of the diet
should immediately be declared illegal and void. He threatened the emperor
and kin^ of the Romans, in case they should cither refuse or delay to gratify
him ill this particular, with the severest effects of his vengeance. He talked
in a tone of authority and command wliich might have suited a pontiff of
the twelfth century, when a papal decree was sufficient to have shaken or to
have overturned, the throne of the greatest monarch in Europe ; but which
was altogether improper in that age, especially when addressed to the
minister of a prince who had so often made pontift's more formidable than
Paul feel the weight of his power. The ambassador, however, heard all his
extravagant propositions ana menaces with much patience, and endeavoured
to soothe him by putting him in mind of the extreme distress to which the
emperor had been reduced at Inspruck, of the engagements which he had
come under to the protestants, in order to extricate himself, of the necessity
of fulfilling these, and of accommodating his conduct to the situation of his
affairs. But weighty as these considerations were, they made no impression
on the mind of the haughty and bigoted pontiff", who instantly replied, that
he would absolve him by his apostolic authority from those impious engage-
ments, and even command hmi not to perform them : that, in carrying on the
cause of God and of the church, no regard ought to be had to the maxims of
worldly prudence and policy; and that the ill success of the emperor's schemes
in Gennany might justly be deemed a mark of the divine displeasure against
him, on account of his having paid little attention to the former, while he re-
gulated lus conduct entirely by the latter. Having said this, he turned from
the ambassador abruptly, without waiting for a replv.

2h

4^Q CHARLES "RESOLVES TO ABDICATE. [BOOK XI.

His nephews took care to applaud and cherish these sentiments, and easily-
wrought up liis arrogant minct, fraught with all the monkish ideas concerning
the extent of the papal supremacy, to such a pitch of resentment against the
house of Austria, and to such a high opinion of his own power, that he talked
continually of his being the successor of those who had deposed kings and
emperors ; that he was exalted as head over them all, and would trample
such RS opposed him under his feet. In this disposition the cardinal of
Lorrain found the pope, and easilj^ persuaded him to sign a treaty, which
had for its object the ruin of a prince, against whom he was so highly ex-
asperated. The stipulations in the treaty were much the same as had lieen
proposed by tlie pope's envoy at Paris, and it was agreed to keep the wliole
transaction secret, until their united forces should be ready to take the field.' ^

During the negotiation of this treaty at Rome and Paris, an event hap-
pened which seemed to render the fears that had given rise to it vain, and
the operations which were to follow upon it unnecessary. This was the
emperor's resignation of his hereditary dominions to his son Philip ; together
with his resolution to withdraw entirely from any concern in busmess or the
affairs of this world, in order that he might spend the remainder of his days
in retirement and solitude.

Though it requires neither deep reflection nor extraordinary discernment
to discover that the state of royalty is not exempt from cares and dis-
appointment ; though most _ of those who are exalted to a throne find so-
licitude, and satiety, and disgust, to be their perpetual attendants in that
envied pre-eminence ; yet to descend voluntarily from the supreme to a sub-
ordiaate station, and to relinquish the possession of power in order to attain
the enjojTuent of happiness, seems to be an efi'ort too great for the human
miad. Several instances, indeed, occur in liistory, of monarchs who have
quitted a throne, and have ended their days in retirement. But they were
either weak princes, who took this resolution rashly, and repented of it as
soon as it was taken, or unfortunate princes, from whose hands some stronger
rival had wrested their sceptre, and compelled them to descend with reluctance
into a private station. Diocletian is, perhaps, the only prince capable of
holding the reins of government who ever resigned them from deliberate
choice, and who continued during many years to enjoy the tranquillity of
retirement without fetching one penitent sigh, or casting back one look of
desire towards the power or dignity which he had abandoned.

No wonder, then, that Charles's resignation should fill all Europe with as-
tonishment, and give rise, both among his contemporaries and among the
historians of that period, to various conjectures concerning the motives
which determined a prince whose ruling passion had been unilbrmly the love
of power, at the age of fifty-six, when objects of ambition continue to operate
with full force on the mind, and are pursued with the greatest ardoui-, to
take a resolution so singular and unexpected. But while many authors have
imputed it to motives so frivolous and fantastical as can hardly be supposed
to influence any reasonable mind; while other have imagined it to be the
result of some profound scheme of policy ; historians more intelligent, and
better informed, neitlier ascribe it to caprice, nor search for mysterious secrets
of state, where simple and obvious causes will fully account for the em-
peror's conduct. Charles had been attacked early in life with the gout, and,
notwithstanding all the precautions of the most skilful physicians, the
violence of the distemper increased as he advanced in age, and the fits
became every year more frequent, as well as more severe. Not only was the

41 Pallav. lib. xiii. p. 163. F. Paul, p. 365. Thuan. lib. sv. p. 525, lib. -svi. p. 640.
M^m. de Kibier, ii. pp. 609, &c.

he

BOOK XI.] MOTIVES OF CHARLEs's RESIGNATION. 467

vigour of his constitution broken^ but the faculties of liis mind were impaired
by the excruciatmg tonnents whicli he endured. During the continuance of
the lits, he was altogether incapable of applying to business, and even when
they began to abate, as it was only at intervals tliat he could attend to
what was serious, he gave up a great part of his time to trifling and even
childish occupations, which served to relieve or to amuse his mind, enfeebled
and worn out with excess of pain. Under these circumstances, the conduct
of such affairs as occun-ed of course in governing so many kingdoms, was a
burden more than suthcient ; but to push forward and complete the vast
schemes wliich the ambition of his more active years had fonned, or to keep
in view and carry on the same great system of policy, extending to every
nation in Europe, and eoimected with the operations of every different court,
were functions which so far exceeded his strength, that they oppressed and
overwhelmed his mind. As he had been long accustomed to view the business
in every department, whether civd, or military, or ecclesiastical, with his own
eyes, and to decide concerning it according to his own ideas, it gave him the
utmost pain when he felt his infirmities increase so fast upon him, that he
was obliged to commit the conduct of all affairs to liis ministers. He im-
puted every misfortune which befeU him, and every miscarriage that hap-
Eened, even when the former was unavoidable, or the latter accidental, to
is inability to take the inspection of business himself. He complained of
his hard fortune in beiug opposed, in his declining years, to a rival who was
in the full vigour of life ; and that, while Henry could take and execute all
his resolutions in person, he should now be reduced, both in council and in
action, to rely on the talents and exertions of other men. Having thus
grown old before his time, he wisely judged it more decent to conceal his iu-
lirmities in some solitude, than to expose them any longer to the public eye ;
and prudently detemiined not to forfeit the fame, or lo^se the acquisitions
of his better years, by struggling with a vain obstinacy to retaiu the reins
of government, when he was no longer able to hold them with steadiness or
to guide them with address. ^'-

But tJiough Charles had revolved this scheme in his mind for several
yeai-s, and had communicated it to his sisters, the dowager queens of IVance
and Hungary, who not only approved of his intention, but offered to accom-
pany him to whatever place of retreat he should choose, several things had

*2 Dom L^vesque, in his memoirs of Cardinal Grunvelle, gives a reason for the empe-
ror s resii^nalion, which, as far as I recollect, is not mentioned by any other historian.
He says, tliat the emperor having ceded the government of the kingdom of Naples and
the duchy of ..Milan to his son, upon his marriage with the queen of England, Philip,
notwithstunijing the advice and entreaties of his fatlier, removed'most of the ministers and
officers whom he had emplyed in those countries, and appointed creatures of his own
to tU the places which they held ; that he aspired openly, and with little delicacy, to
obtain a sliare in the administration of affairs in the Low Countries ; that he endeavoured
to thwart the emperor'$ measures, and to hmit his authority, behaving towards him
sometimes with inattention, and sometimes with haughtiness; that Charles, finding
that he nuist either yield on every occasion to his son, or openly contend with him, in
order to avoid either of these, which were both disagreeable and mortifying to a father,
Le took the resolution of resigning his crowns, and of retiring from the worla, voL i.
2-1, &c. Dom L^vesque derived his information concernnig these curious facts,
h he relates very briefly, from the original papers of Cardinal Granvelle. But as
t vast collection of papers, which has been preserved and arranged by M. I'Abbe Boizot
f Besau(,on, though one of the most valuable historical monuments of the sixteenth cen-
tury, ami which cannot fail of tiirowing much light on the transactions of Charles V., is
not pubii.sliL'd, I cannot determine what degree of credit should be given to this account
cf Churles'>> resignation. 1 have, therefore, taken no notice of it in relating this event.

2u2

■

468 ABDICATION OP THE EMPEEOE. [BOOK XI.

hitherto prevented his carrying it into execution. He could not think of
loading his son with the government of so many kingdoms, until he should
attain such maturity of age and of abiUties as would enable him to sustain
that weighty burden. But as Philip had now reached his twenty-eighth
year, and had been early accustomea to business, for which he discovered
both inclination and capacity, it can hardly be imputed to the partiality of
paternal affection that lus scruples with regard to this point were entirely re-
moved ; and that he thought he might place his son, without further hesita-
tion or delay, on the throne which he himself was about to abandon. His
mother's situation had been another obstruction in his way ; for although
she had continued almost fifty years in confinement, and under the same dis-
order of mind which concern for her husband's death had brought upon her,
yet the government of Spain was still vested in her jointly with the emperor •
her name was inserted together with his in all the public instruments issued
in that kingdom ; and such was the fond attachment of the Spaniards to her,
that they would probably have scrupled to recognise Philip as their sovereign,
unless she had consented to assume him as her partner on the throne*
Her utter incapacitj^ for business rendered it impossible to obtain her consent.
But her death, which happened this year, removed this difficulty ; and as
Charles, upon that event, became sole monarch of Spain, it left the succes-
sion open to his son. The war with Prance had likewise been a reason for
retaining the administration of affairs in his own hand, as he was extremely
solicitous to have terminated it, that he might have given up his kingdoms
to his son at peace with all the world. But as Henry liad discovered no dis-
position to close with any of his overtures, and had even rejected proposals
of peace, which were equal and moderate, in a tone that seemed to indicate
a fixed purpose of continuing hostilities, he saw that it was vain to wait
longer in expectation of an event which, however desirable, was altogether
uncertain.

As this, then, appeared to be the proper juncture for executing the scheme
which he had long meditated, Charles resolved to resign his kingdoms to his
son with a solemnity suitable to the importance of the transaction, and to per-
form this last act of sovereignty with such formal pomp as might leave a last-
ing impression on the minds, not only of his subjects, but of his successor. -
"With this view he called Philip out of England, where the peevish temper
of his queen, which increased with her despair of having issue, rendered him
extremely unhappy; and the jealousy of the English left him no hopes of
obtaining the direction of their affairs. Having assembled the states of the
Low Countries at Brussels, on the twenty-fifth of October, Charles seated
himself, for the last time, in the chair of state, on one side of which was
placed his son, and on the other his sister, the queen of Hungary, regent of
the Netherlands, with a splendid retinue of the princes of the empire and
grandees of Spain standing behind him. The president of the council of
Planders, by his command, explained, in a few words, his intention in calling
this extraordinary meeting of the states. He tlien read the instrument of
resignation, by which Charles surrendered to his son Philip all his terri-
tories, juiisdiction, and authority in the Low Countries, absolving his sub-
jects there from the oath of allegiance to him, which he required them to
transfer to Philip, his lawful heir, and to serve him with the same loyalty and
zeal which they had manifested during so long a coui'se of years, in support of
his government.

Charles then rose from his seat, and leaning on the shoulder of the prmce
of Orange, because he was unable to stand without support, he addressed
himself to the audience, and from a paper which he hela in his hand, in
order to assist his memory, he recounted with dignity, but without ostenta-

BOOK XI.] SPEECH OF CHAKLES. 46'J

tion, all the great things which he had undertaken and performed since the
commencement of his aaministration. He observed that, from the seventeenth
year of his age, he had dedicated all his thoughts and attention to public ob-
iccts, reserving no portion ofhis time for the uidulgence of liis ease, and very
little for tlic enjoyment of private pleasure • that, either in a pacific or hostile
manner, he had visited Germany nine times, Spain six times, France four times,
Italy seven times, the Low Countries ten times, England twice, Africa as
often, and had inadc eleven voyages by sea ; that, while liis health permitted
him to discharge his duty, and the vigour of his constitution was equal, in any
degree, to the arduous office of governing such extensive dominions, he had
never shumied labour, nor repined under fatigue ; that now when his health
was broken, and his vigour exhausted by the rage of an incurable distemper,
his growing intirmities admonished him to retire; nor \vas he so fond of
reigning as to retain the sceptre in an impotent hand, which was no longer
able to protect his subjects, or to secure to them the happiness which he
wished they should enjoy ; that instead of a sovereign worn out with
diseases, and scarcely half alive, he gave them one in the prime of life, ac-
customed already to govern, and who added to the vigour of youth all the
attention and sagacity of maturer years ; that if, during the course of a lon§:
administration, he had committed any material error in government, or it,
under the pressure of so many and great affairs, and amidst the attention
which he had been obliged to give to them, he had either neglected or injured
any of his subjects, he now implored their forgiveness ; that, for his part, he
should ever retain a grateful sense of their fidelity and attachment, and
would carry the rememorance of it along with him to the place of his retreat.
as his sweetest consolation, as well as the best reward for all his services, and
in his last prayers to Almighty God would pour forth his most earnest peti-
tions for their welfare.

Then turning towards Philip, who fell on his knees and kissed his father's
hand, — " If," says he, " I had left you by my death this rich inheritance, to
which I have made such large additions, some regard would have been justly
due to my memorv on that account ; but now. when I voluntarily resign to
you what I might have still retained, I may well expect the warmest expres-
sions of thanks on your part. With these, however, I dispense, and shall
consider your concern for the welfare of your subjects, and your love of
them, as the best and most acceptable testimony of your gratitude to me. It
is in your power, by a wise and virtuous administration, to justify the extra-
ordinary proof which I this day give of my paternal affection, and to de-
monstrate that you are worthy of the confidence which I repose in you.
Preserve an inviolable regard for religion ; maintain the catholic faith in its
purity ; let the laws of your country be sacred in your eyes ; encroach not on
the rights and privileges of your people ; and if the time should ever come
when you shall wish to enjoy the tranquillity of private life, may you have a
son endowed with such qualities that you can resign your sceptre to him, with
aa much satisfaction as 1 give up mine t;o vou."

As soon as Charles had finished this long addiess to his subjects and to
their new sovereign, he sunk into the chair, exhausted and ready to faint
with the fatigue of such an extraordinary effort. During his discourse,
the whole audience melted into tears, some from admiration of his magna-
nimity, others softened by the expressions of tenderness towards his son, and
of love to his neople ; and all were alfccted with the deepest sorrow at losing
a sovereign wno, during his administration, had distinguished the Nether-
lands, his native country, with particidar marks of his regard and attachment.

Philip then arose from his knees ; and after returning thanks to his father
with a low and submissive voice, for the loyal gift which kis unexampled

470 CHARLES RESIGNS THE CROWNS OF SPAIN. L^^OOK XI.

bounty had bestowed upon him, he addressed the assembly of the states, and
regretting his inability to speak the Flemish language with such facUity as
to express what he felt on this interesting occasion, as well as what he
owed to his good subjects in the Netherlands, he begged that _ they would
permit Granvelle, bishop of Arras, to deliver what he had given him ia
charge to speak in his name. Granvelle, in a long discourse, expatiated on
the zeal with which PhiliiD was animated for the good of his subjects, on his
resolution to devote all his time and talents to the promoting of their hap-
piness, and on his intention to imitate his father's example iadisthiguishing
the Netherlands with peculiar marks of his regard. Maes, a lav/yer of great
eloquence, replied, ia the name of the states, with large professions of their
fidelity and affection to their new sovereign.

Then Mary, queen-dowager of Hungary, resigned the regency with which
she had been entrusted by her brother during the space of twenty-five years.
Next day Philip, in presence of the states, took the usual oaths to mamtaia
the rights and privueges of his subjects ; and all the members, in their own
name, and in that of their constituents, swore allegiance to him."

[1556.] A few weeks after this transaction, Charles, ia an assembly no less
splendid, and with a ceremonial equally pompous, resigned to his son the
crowns of Spain, with all the territories depending on them, both in the old
and in the new world. Of all these vast possessions, he reserved nothing for
himself but an annual pension of a hundred thousand crowns, to defray the
charges of his family, and to afford him a small sum for acts of beneficence
and charity."

As he had fixed on a place of retreat ia Spain, hopiag that the dryness and

*' Godleveus, Kelatio Abdicationis Car. V. ap. Goldast. Polit. Impei-. p. 377. Strada de
Bello Belgico, lib. i. p. 5.

** The emperor's resignation is an event not only of such importance, but of such a
nature, that the precise date of it, one would expect, sliould have been ascertained by
historians M'ith the greatest accuracy. There is, however, an amazing and unaccount-
able diversity among them with regard to this point. All agree that the deed by which
Charles transferred to his son his dominions in tlie Netherlands, bears date at Brussels
the 25th of October. Sandoval fixes on tlie 28th of October, as the day on which the
ceremony of resignation happened, and he was present at the transaction, vol. ii. p. 592.
Godleveus, who published a treatise de Abdicatione Caroli V., fixes the public ceremony,
as well as tlie date of the instrument of resignation, on the 25th. Pere Barre, I know
not on what authority, fixes it on tlie 24th of November. Hist. (TAlem. viii. p. 976.
Herrera agrees with Godleveus in his account of this matter, tom. i. p. 155 ; as likewise
does Pallavicini, whose authority with respect to dates, and everything where a minute
accuracy is requisite, is of great weight. Hist. lib. xvi. p. 168. Historians differ no less
with regard to the day on which Charles resigned the crown of Spain to his son. Accord-
ing to M. de Thou, it Avas a month after his having resigned his dominions in the Nether-
lands, i. e. about the 25th of November. Thuan. lib. xvi. p. 571. According to Sandoval,
it was on the 16th of January, 1556. Sand, ii. p, 603. Antonia de Vera agrees with
him. Epitome de la Vida de Car. V. p. 110. According to Pallavicini, it was on the
17th, Pal. lib. xvi. p. 168, and Avith him Herrera agrees. Vida de D. Filipo, torn. i. p. 233.
But Feneras fixes it on the first day of Januaiy, Hist. Gener. tom, ix. p. 371. M. de
Beaucaire supposes the resignation of the crown of Spain to have been executed a few
days after the rcbignation of the Netherlands. Co7n de Reb. Gall. p. 879. It is remark-
able that in the treaty of truce at Vaucelles, though Charles had made over all bin do-
minions to his son some weeks previous to the conclusion of it, all the stipulations are iu
the empt'ror's name, and Philip is only styled king of England and Naples. It is certain
Philip was not proclaimed king of Castile, &c., at Valladolid sooner than the 24th of Mjirch,
Sandov. ii. p. 606 ; and. previous to that ceremony, he did not choose, it should seem, to
assume the title of king of any of his Spanish kingdoms, or to perform any act of royal
jurisdiction. In a deed annexed to the treaty of truce, dated April 19, ne assumes the
title of king of Castile, &c., in the usual style of the Spanish mouarchs in that age. Corps
Dipl. tom. iv. Append, p. ^5.

BOOK XI.] TRUCE BETWilEN FllA>'C£ AND SPAIN. 471

the warmth of the climate in that countrv might mitigate the violence of his
disease, which had been mucli increased by the moisture of the air and the
rigour of the winters in thd Netherlands, he was extremely impatient to em-
bark for that kingdom, and to disengage himself entirely fi-om business, which
he found to be impossible while he remained in Brussels. But his physicians
remoiistnited so strongly against his ventui'iug to sea at that cold and bois-
terous season of the year, that he consented, though with reluctance, to put
olF his voyage for some months.

By yielding to their entreaties, he had the satisfaction, before he left the
Low Countries, of taking a considerable step towards a peace with France,
which he ai'dently wished for, not only on liis son's account, but that he might
have the merit, when quitting the world, of re-establishing that tranquillity in
Europe which he had banished out of it ahnost from the time that he assumed
the admmisti-ation of afi'aii-s. Previous to his resignation, commissioners had
been appointed by him and by the French king, in order to treat of an ex-
change of prisoners. In their conferences at the abbey of A aucelles, near
Cambray, an expedient was accidentally proposed for terminating hostilities
between the contending monarchs, by a long truce, during the subsistence of
which, and without discussing their respective claims, each should retain what
was now in his possession. Charles, sensible how much his kingdoms were
exliausted by the expensive and almost continual wars in which his ambition
had engaged him, and eager to gain for his son a short interval of peace, that
he might establish himself firmly on his throne, declared warmlv for closing
with the overture, though manifestly dishonourable as well as disadvantageous :
and such was the respect due to his wisdom and experience, that Philip, not-
withstanding his onwillinguess to purchase peace by such concessions, did
not presume to urge his opinion in oppositijn to that of his father.

Henry could not have hesitated one moment about giving his consent to
a truce, on such conditions as would leave him in quiet possession of the
greater part of the duke of Savoy's dominions, together with the important
conquests wliich he had made on the German frontier. But it was no easy
matter to reconcile such a step with the engsigements which he had come
under to the pope, in his late treaty with him. The Constable Montmorency,
however, represented iu such a striking light the imprudence of sacrificing
the true interests of his kingdom to these rash obligations, and took such
advantage of the absence of the cardinal of Lorrain, who had seduced the
king into his alliance with the Carafi'as, that Henry, who was natm-ally fluc-
tuating and unsteady, and apt to be influenced by the advice last given him,
authorized his ambassadors to sign a treaty of truce with the emperor for five
yeai's, on the terms which had been proposed. But that he might not seem
to have altogether forgotten his ally the pope, who, he foresaw, would be
highly exasperated, he, in order to soothe him, took care that he should be
expressly included in the truce.*^

The count of Lalam repaired to Blois, and the Admiral de Coligny to Bnis-
sels ; the former to be present when the king of Prance, and the latter when
the emperor and his son, ratified the treaty and bound themselves by oath to
obsei-ve it.** When an account of the conferences at Yaueelles, and of the
conditions of truce which had been proposed there, was first canied to Rome,
it gave the pope no manner of disquiet. He trusted so much to the honour

** Jlem. de Ribier, ii. p. 626. Corps Diplom. torn. iv. App. p. 81.

*» One of Admiral de Coligny's attendants, who wrote to the court of France an nccount
of what happened while they resided at Brussels, takes notice, as an instance of Philip's
tinpoliteness, that he received the French ambassador in an apartment hung with tapestry,
which represented the battle of Pavia, the manner in which Francis I. was taken prisoner,
his voyage to Spain, with all the mortifying circumstances of his captivity and imprison-
ment at Madrid. — Mem. de Jiibier> ii- D. 634.

472 ATTEMPTS TO REKINDLE TTAE, [BOOK XI.

of the French monarch, that he would not allow himself to think that Henry
could forget so soon, or violate so shamefully, all the stipulations in his league
with him. He had such a high opinion of the emperor's wisdom, that he
made no doubt of his refusing his consent to a truce on such unequal terms ;
and on both these accounts he confidently^ pronounced that this, like many
preceding negotiations, would termiiiate m nothing. But later and more
certain intelligence soon convinced him that no reasoning in political affairs
is more fallacious, than, because as event is improbable, to conclude that it
will not happen. The sudden and unexpected conclusion of the truce filled
Paul with astonishment and terror. The carduial of Lorrain durst not en-
counter that storm of indignation, to which he knew that he should be ex-
posed from the haughty pontiff, who had so good reason to be incensed ; but,
departing abruptly from Home, he left to the Cardinal Tournon the difficult
task of attempting to soothe Paul and his nephews. They were fully sensible
of the perilous situation in which they now stood. By their engagements
with Prance, which were no longer secret, they had highly irritated Philip.
They dreaded the violence of his implacable temper. The duke of Alva, a
minister fitted, as well by his abilities as by the severity of his nature, for
execuiing all Phdip's rigorous schemes, had advanced from Milan to Naples,
and began to assemble troops on the frontiers of the ecclesiastical state ;
while thej', if deserted by Prance, must not only relinquish all the hopes of
dominion and sovereignty to which their ambition aspired, but remain exposed
to the resentment of the Spanish monarch, without one ally to protect them
against an enemy with whom they were so little able to contend.

Under these circumstances, Paul had recourse to the arts of negotiation
and intrigue ; of which the papal court knows well how to avail itself, in
order to ward off any calamity threatened by an enemy superior in power.
He affected to approve highly of the truce, as a happy expedient for putting
a stop to the effusion of Christian blood. He expressed his warmest wishes
that it might prove the forerunner of a definitive peace. He exliorted the
rival princes to embrace this favourable opportunity of setting on foot a ne-
gotiation for that purpose, and offered, as their common father, to be mediator
oetween them. Under this pretext, he appointed Cardinal Kebiba his nuncio
to the court of Brussels, and his nephew, Cardinal Caraff'a, to that of Paris.
The public instructions given to both were the same ; that they should use
their utmost endeavours to prevail with the two monarchs to accept of the
pope's mediation, that, by means of it, peace might be re-established, and
measures might be taken for assembling a general council. But under this
specious appearance of zeal for attaining objects so desirable in themselves,
and so becoming his sacred character to pursue, Paul concealed very different
intentions. Caraff'a, besides his public mstructions, received a private com-
mission to solicit the Prench king to renounce the treaty of truce, and to
renew his engagements with the holy see ; and he was empowered to spare
neither entreaties, nor promises, nor bribes, in order to eain that point. Lliis
both the uncle and the nephew considered as the real end of the embassy;
while the other served to amuse the vulgar, or to deceive the emperor and his
son. The cardinal, accordingly, set out instantly for Paris, and travelled with
the greatest expedition, whilst Kebiba was detained some weeks at Home :
and when it became necessary for him to begin his journey, he received
secret orders to protract it as much as possible, that the issue of Caraffa's
negotiation might be known before he should reach Brussels, and, according
to that, proper directions might be given to him with regard to the tone
which he should assume in treating with the emperor and his son.''^

*• Pallav. lib. xiii. p. 1G9. Burnet. Hist, of Reform, ii. App. p. 309.

BOOK XI.] THE pope's NEGOTIATIONS WITH HENElf. 473

Caraffa made his entry into Paris with extraordinary pomp ; and having
presented a consecrated sword to Henry, as the protector, on whose aid the
pope relied in the present exigency, he besought him not to disregard the en-
treaties of a parent in distress, but to employ that weapon which he gave
liim in his defence. This he represented not only as a duty of filial piety,
but as an act of justice. As the pope, from confidence in the assistance ana
support which his late treatv with France entitled him to expect, had taken
such steps as had irritated tlie king of Spain, he conjured Henry not to suffer
Paul and his family to be crushed imder the weight of that resentment, which
thev had drawn on themselves merely by their attachment to Erance. To-
gether with this argument addressed to his generosity, he employed another
which he hoped would work on his ambition. He affirmed that now was the
time^ when, with the most certain prospect of success, he might attack
Philip's dominions in Italy ; that the flower of the veteran Spanish bands had
perished in the wars of Hungary, Germany, and the Low Countries • that the
emperor had left his son an exhausted treasury, and kingdoms drained of
men ; that be had no longer to contend with the abilities, the experience, and
good fortune of Charles, but with a monarch scarcely seated on his throne,
unpractised in command, odious to many of the Italian states, and dreaded
by all. He promised that the pone, who had already levied soldiers, woiJd
bring a considerable army into the field, which, when joined by a sufficient
number of French troops, might, by one brisk and sudden effort, di'ive the
Spaniards out of Naples, and add to the crown of France a kingdom, the
conquest of which had been the great object of all his predecessors durmg
half a century, and the chief motive of all their expeditions into Italy.

Every word Caraffa spoke made a deep impression on Hem-y; conscious,
on the one hand, that the pope had just cause to reproach him with having
violated the laws not only of generosity but of decency, when he renounced
his league with him, and had agreed to the truce of Vaucelles ; and eager, on
the other hand, not only to distiuguish his reign by a conquest, which three
former monarchs had attempted without success, but likewise to acquire an
establishment of such dignity and value for one of his sons. Reverence,
however, for the oath bv which he had so lately confirmed the truce of Vau-
celles ; the extreme old age of the pope, whose death might occasion an
entire revolution ia the political system of Italy; together with the repre-
sentations of Montmorency, who repeated all the arguments he had used
against the first league with Paul, and poiuted out the great and immediate
advantages which France derived from tne truce, kept Henry for some time
in suspense, and might possibly have outweighed all Caraffa's arguments.
But the cardinal was not such a novice iuthe arts of intrigue and negotiation,
as not to have expedients ready for removing or surmounting all these ob-
stacles. To obviate the king's scruple with regard to his oath, he produced
powers from the pope to absolve him from the obligation of it. By way of
security against any danger which he might apprehend from the pope's death,
he engaged that his uncle would make such a nomination of cardinals, as
should give Henry the absolute command of the next election, and enable hun
to place in the papal chair a person entirely devoted to liis interest.

In order to counterbalance the effect of the constable's opinion and influ-
ence, he employed not only the active talents of the duke of Guise, and the
eloquence of liis brother the cardinal of Lorrain, but the address of the queen,
aided by the more powerful arts of Diana of Poitiers, who, unfortunately for
France, co-operated with Catherme in this point, though she took pleasure,
on almost every other occasion, to thwart and mortifv her. They, by their
united sohcitations, easily swayed the king, who leaned, of his own accord, to
that side towards which the^r wished him to incline. All Montmorencj^s

;i74 viole:;:t measures or paul — philip's sceuples. [book XI.

prudent remonstrances were disregarded; the nimcio absolved Henry from
nis oath ; and he signed a new league with the pope, which rekindled the
flames of war both in Italy and the Low Countries.

As soon as Paul was informed by his nephew that there was a fair prospect
of his succeeding^ in this negotiation, he despatched a messenger after the
nuncio Rebiba, with orders to return to Rome, without proceeding to Brus-
sels. As it was now no longer necessary to preserve that tone of moderation
which suited tlie character of a mediator, and which he had affected to assume,
or to put any farther restraint upon his resentment against Philip, he boldly
threw oft' the mask, and took such violent steps as rendered a rupture un-
avoidable, lie seized and imprisoned the Spanish envoy at his coui"t. He
excommunicated the Colonnas; and hEuving deprived Marco Antonio, the
head of that family, of the dukedom of Paliano, he granted that dignity,
together with the tenitory annexed to it, to his nephew, the count of Mon-
toriq. He ordered a legal information to be presented in tlie consistory of
cardinals against Philip, setting forth that he, notwithstanding the fidelity
and allegiance due by him to the holy see, of which he held the kingdom of
Naples, had not only afibrded a retreat in his dominions to the Colonnas,
whom the pope had excommunicated and _ declared rebels, but had furnished
them with arms, and was ready, in conjunction with them, to invade the
ecclesiastical state in a hostile manner ; that such conduct in a vassal was to
be deemed treason against his liege lord, the punishment of which was the
forfeiture of his fief. Upon this the consistorial advocate requested the pope
to take cognisance of the cause, and to appoint a day for hearing of it, when
he would make good every article of the charge, and expect from liis justice
that sentence which the heinqusness of Philip's crimes merited. Paul, whose
pride was highly flattered with the idea of trying and passing judgment on
so great a king, assented to his request, and, as if it had been no less easy
to execute than to pronounce such a sentence, declared that he would consult
with the cardinals concerning the formalities requisite in conducting the
trial.*8

But while Paul allowed his pride and resentment to drive him on with such
headlong impetuosity, Philip discovered an amazing moderation on his part.
He had been taught by the Spanish ecclesiastics, who had the charge of his
education, a profound veneration for the holy see. This sentunent, which liad
been early infused, grew up with him as he advanced in years, and took full
possession of his mind, which was naturally thoughtful, serious, and prone to
superstition. When he foresaw a rupture with the pope approaching, he had
such violent scruples with respect to the lawfulness of taking arms against
the vicegerent of Christ, and the common father of all Christians, that he
consulted some Spanish divines upon that point. They, with the usual dex-
terity of casuists in accommodating their responses to the circumstances_ of
those who apply to tliem for direction, assured Lim that, after employing
prayers and remonstrances in order to bring the pope to reason, he had full
right, both by the laws of nature and of Christianity, not only to defend him-
self when attacked, but to begin hostilities, if that were judged the most
proper expedient for preventing the effects of Paul's violence and injustice.
Philip nevertheless continued to deliberate and delay, considering it a" most
cruel misfortune, that his administration should open with an attack on a
person whose sacred function and character he so highly respected.''^

At last the duke of Alva, who, in compliance with his master's scruples,
had continued to negotiate long after he should have begun to act, finding

*8 Pallav. lib. xiii. p. 171.

" Ferrer. Hist. d'EsDagne, ix. »• 373 HeiTera, i. p. 308.

BOOK XI,] TRUCE BETWEEN PHILIP AJSD THE POPE. 4^

Paul inexorable, and that every overture of peace, and every appearance of
hesitation on his part, increased the pontiff's natural arro.^ance, took the field
and cut ered the ecclesiastical territories. His army did not exceed twelve
thousand men; but it was composed of veteran soldiers, and commanded
chiclly by those Roman barons wliom Paul's violence had driven into exile.
The valour of the troops, together with the animosity of their leaders, who
fought iu their own quarrel, and to recover their own estates, supplied the
want of numbers. As none of the French forces were yet arrived, Alva soon
became master of the Campagna Romanaj some cities being surrendered
throu":h the cowardice of the garrisons, which consisted of raw soldiers, ill
disciplined and worse commanded ; the gates of others being opened by the
iuliabiiants, who were eager to receive back their ancient masters. Alva,
that he might not be taxed with impiety in seizing the patrimony of the
church, took possession of the to^vns which capitulated, in the name of the
college of cardinals, to which, or to the pope that should be chosen to succeed
Paul, he declared that he would immediately restore them.

The rapid progress of the Spaniards, whose light troops made excursions
even to the gates of Home, filled that citv with consternation. Paid, though
inflexible and undaunted himself, was obliged to give way so far to the fears
and solicitations of the cardinals, as to send deputies to Alva, in order to pro-
pose a cessation of arms. Tiie pope yielded the more readily, as he was sen-
sible of a double advantage which might be derived from obtaining that
point. It would deliver the iiiliabitauts of Home from their present terror,
and woidd afford time for the arrival of the succours which he expected
from Prance. Nor was Alva unwilling to close with the overture, both as
he knew how desu-ous his master was to terminate a war which he had
undertaken with reluctance, and as his army was so much weakened by
garrisoning the great number of towns which he had reduced, that it was
hardly in a condition to keep the field without fresh recruits. A truce was
accordingly concluded, first for ten, and afterwards for forty days, during
which various schemes of peace were proposed, and perpetual nei^otiations
were carried on, but with no sincerity on the part of the pope. Tne return
of his nephew the cardinal to Rome, the receipt of a considerable sum re-
mitted by the king of France, the arrival of one body of French troops, to-
gether with the expectation of others which had begun their march, ren-
dered him more arrogant than ever, and banished all thoughts from his mind
but those of war and revenge.^"

»• Pallav. lib. xiii. p. 177. Thnan. lib. xvii. p. 688. M^ai. de Ribier, ii. p. 664.

476 SCHEME OP SUCCESSION BENEWED. ffiOOK XIL

BOOK XII.

New and fruitless Attempt of the Emperor to procure the Succession for his Son Philip
— He sets out for Spain — His Retreat at St. Justus — The Pope renews Hostilities
against Philip — Duke of Guise's Operations — Philip gains the Aid of England— The
War in the Netherlands — Siege of St. Quentin — Measures of Henry for the Defence of
France — Peace between the Pope and Philip — Placentia restored to the Duke of
Parma — Cosmo de' Medici recovers Siena — The Duke of Guise invests and takes
Calais — Ferdinand chosen Successor to the Emperor, but is not acknowledged by the
Pope — Marriage of the Daupliin and the Queen of Scots — Defeat of the French at
Gravelines — Proposals for Peace— Death of Charles V. — Death of Mary of England—
Both Henry and Philip court her Successor, Elizabeth — Her Artifice towards Philip
— Articles of Peace agreed upon — Death of Henry — State of Europe during the Reign
of Charles V. — Progress of the House of Austria — Growth of France and of England
— The Reformation — State of Venice and other Italian Nations ; of Russia, and the
Northern Powers.

[1556.] While these operations or intrigues kept the pope and Philip busy
and attentive, the emperor disentangled himself finally from all the affairs of
this world, and set out for the place of his retreat. He had liitherto retained
the imperial dignity, not from any unwillingness to relinquish it, for, after
having resigned the real and extensive authority that he enjoyed in his here-
ditary dominions, to part with the limited and often ideal jurisdiction which
belongs to an elective crown, was no great sacrifice. His sole motive for
delay Avas to gain a few months for making one trial more, in order to ac-
complish his favourite scheme in behalf of his son. At the very time Charles
seemed to be most sensible of the vanity of worldly grandeur, and when he
appeared to be quitting it not only with indifference, but with contempt,
the vast schemes of amoition, which had so long occupied and engrossed his
mind, still kept possession of it. He could not think of leaving his son in a
rank inferior to that which he himself had held among the princes of Europe.
As he had, some years before, made a fruitless attempt to secure the imperial
crown to Philip, that, by uniting it to the kingdoms of Spain, and the do-
minions of the house of Burgundy, he might put it in his power to pro-
secute, with a better prospect of success, those great plans which his own
infirmities had obHged him to abandon, he was still unwilling to relinquisn
this flattering project as chimerical or unattainable.

Notwithstanding the repulse which he had formerly met with from his
brother Ferdinand, he renewed his solicitations with fresh importunity, and,
duiiug the summer, had tried every art, and employed every argument, which
he thought could induce him to quit the imperial throne to Philip, and to
accept of the investiture of some province, either in Italy or in the Low
Countries, as an equivalent.^ But Perdinand, who was so firm and inflexible
with regard to this point, that he had paid no regard to the solicitations of
the emperor, even when they were enforced with all the weight of authority
which accompanies supreme power, received the overture, that now came

1 Ambassades de Noailles torn. v. p. 356.

BOOK XII.] CHARLES ARRIVES IN SPAIN. 477

from him in the situation to which he had descended, with CTeat indifference,
and would hardly dei^ to listen to it. Charles, ashamed of nis own credulity
in havins: imagined that he might accomplish that now, which he had at-
tempted formerly without success, desisted iinally from liis scheme. He then
resigned the government of the empire, and having transferred all his claims
of obedience and allegiance from the Germanic body to his brother, the king
of the llomans, he executed a deed to that effect, with all the formalities
requisite in such an important transaction. The instrument of resignation
he committed to AVilliam, prince of Orange, and empowered him to lay it
before the college of electors.^

Notliing now remained to detain Charles from that retreat for which he
languished. The preparations for his voyage having been made for some time,
he set out for Zuitbur^ in Zealand, where the fleet which was to convoy him
had orders to assemble. In his way thither he passed through Ghent, and
after stopping there a few days, to indulge that tender and pleasing melan-
choly which arises in the mind of every man in the decline of life, on visiting
the place of his nativity, and viewing the scenes and objects familiar to him
in his early youth, he pursued his journey, accompanied by his son Philip, his
daughter the arcn-duchess, his sisters the dowager queens of France and
Hungary, Maximilian his son-in-law, and a numerous retiiiue of the Flemish
nobility.' Before he went on board, he dismissed them, with marks of his
attention or regard, and taking leave of Philip with all the tenderness of a
father who embraced his son for the last time, he set sail on the seventeenth
of September, under the convoy of a large fleet of Spanish, Flemish, and
English ships. He declined a pressing invitation from the queen of England
to land in some part of her dominions, in order to refresh nimself, and that
she might have the comfort of seeing hini once more. " It cannot surely,"
said he, " be agreeable to a queen to receive a visit from a father-in-law who
is now nothing more than a private gentleman."

His voyage was prosperous, and ne amved at Laredo, in Biscay, on the
eleventh day after he left Zealand. As soon as he landed, he fell prostrate
on the ground ; and, considering himself now as dead to the world, he kissed
the earth, and said, " Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked I
now retuni to thee, thou common mother of mankind." From Laredo he
pursued his journey to Burgos, carried sometimes in a chair, and sometimes
in a horse-litter, suffering exquisite pain at every step, and advancing with
the greatest difficulty. Some of the Spanish nobility repaired to Burgos, in
order to pay court to him ; but they were so few in number, and their attend-
ance was so negligent, that Charles observed it, and felt, for the lirst time,
tiiat he was no longer a monarch. Accustomed from his early youth to the
dutiful and officious respect \^dth which those who possess sovereign power
are attended, he had received it with the credulity common to princes, and
was sensibly mortified when he now discovered, that he had been indebted to
his rank and power for much of that obsequious regard which he had fondly
thought was paid to his personal qualities. But though he might have soon
learned to view with unconcern the levity of his subjects, or to nave despised
ihcii- neglect, he was more deeply afilicted with the ingratitude of his son.
who, forgetting already how much he owed to his father's bounty, obliged
him to remain some weeks at Burgos before he paid him the first moiety of
that small pensiou, which was all that he had reserved of so many king-
doms. As without this sum Charles could not dismiss his domestics witn
such rewards as their services merited, or his generosity had destined for
them, he could not help expressing both surprise and dissatisfaction.* At

= Goldast. Constit. Iznper. rar. i. p. o7G. Strado de Cello Belg. lib. i. p. 9.

4.7?' CHARLES AND THE POPE CONTRASTED. L^OOK XII.

last the money was paid, and Charles, having dismissed a great numb(;r of
his domestics, whose attendance he thought would be superfluous or cumber-
some in his retirement, he proceeded to Yalladolid. There he took a last
and tender leave of his two sisters, whom he would not permit to accompany
him to his solitude, though they requested him with tears, not only tliat they
might have the consolation of contributing, by their attendance and care, to
'nitigate or to soothe his sufferings, but that they might reap instruction and
benefit by joining with him in those pious exercises to which he had conse-
crated the remainder of his days.

[1557.] From Yalladolid he continued his journey to Plazencia, in Estre-
madura. He had passed through this place a great many years before, and
having been struck at that time with the delightful situation of the monastery
of St. Justus, belonging to the order of St. Jerome, not many miles distant
from the town, he had then observed to some of his attendants, that this was
a spot to which Diocletian might have retired with pleasure. The impression
had remained so strong on his mind, that he pitched upon it as the place of
his own retreat. It was seated in a vale ot no great extent, watered by a
small brook, and surrounded by rising grounds, covered with lofty trees;
from the nature of the soil, as well as the temperature of the climate, it was
esteemed the most healthful and delicious situation in Spain. Some months
before his resignation, he had sent an architect thither, to add a new apart-
ment to the monastery for his accommodation ; but he gave strict orders that
the style of the building should be such as suited his present station, rather
than his former dignity. It consisted only of six rooms, four of them in the
form of friars' cells, with naked walls ; the other two, each twenty feet
square, were hung with brown cloth, and furnished in the most simple
manner. They were aU on a level with the ground, with a door on one side
into a garden, of which Charles himself had given the plan, and had fiUed it
with various plants, which he intended to cultivate with his own hands. On
the other side they communicated with the chapel of the monastery, in which
he was to perform his devotions. Into this humble retreat, hardly sufficient
for the comfortable accommodation of a private gentleman, did Charles enter,
with twelve domestics only. He buried there, in solitude and silence, his
grandeur, his ambition, together with all those vast projects, which, during
almost half a century, had alarmed and agitated Europe, filling every king-
dom in it, by turns, with the terror of his arms, and the dread of being sub-
dued by his power."

The contrast between Charles's conduct and that of the pope at this junc-
ture was so obvious that it struck even the most careless observers ; nor was
the comparison which they made to the advantage of Paul. Th« former, a
conqueror, born to reign, long accustomed to the splendour which accom-
panies supreme power, and to those busy and interesting scenes in which an
active ambition had engaged him, quitted the world at a period of life not far
advanced, that he might close the evening of his days ui tranquillity, and secure
some interval for sober thought and serious recollection. The latter, a priest,
who had passed the early part of his life in the shade of the schools, and in
the study of the speculative sciences, who was seemmgly so detached from
the world, that he had sLut himself up for many years in the solitude of a
cloister, and who was not raised to the papal throne until he had reached the
extremity of old age, discovered at once all the impetuosity of youthfid am-
bition, and formed extensive schemes, in order to accomplish which he
scrupled not to scatter the seeds of discord, and to kindle the flames of war,
in every corner of Europe. But Paul, regardless of the opinion or censures

* Sandov. ii. j). 607, et Zuniga, p. 100. Thuan. Lib. xvii. p. 609.

300K XII.] THE POPE RENEWS HOSTILITIES. 479

of mankind, held on his own course with his wonted arroMim^e and vio-
lence. These, although they seemed already to have exceeded all bounds,
rose to a still ^eater height, upon the arrival of the duke of Guise in

Italy.

That which the two princes of Lorrain foresaw and desired, had happened.
The duke of Guise was entrusted with the command of the army appomted to
march to the pope's assistance. It consisted of twenty thousand men of the
best troops in the sei-vice of iVance. So high was the duke's reputation, and
such the general expectation of beholding some extraordinary exertion of his
courage and abilities, in a war into which he had precipitated his country,
chiefly with the design of obtaining a field where he might display his own
talents, that many of the Erench nobility, who had no command in the troops
employed, accompanied him as volunteers. This army passed the Alps in an
inclem'ent season, and advanced towards Rome, without any opposition from
the Spaniards, who, as they were not strong enough to act in different parts,
had collected all their forces into one body on the frontiers of Naples, for the
defence of that kingdom.

Emboldened by the approach of the French, the pope let loose all the fury
of his resentment aarainst Philip, vrhich, notwithstanding the natural violence
of his temper, prudential considerations had hitherto obliged him to keep
under some restraint. He named commissioners, whom he empowered tc
pass judgment in the suit, which the consistorial advocate had commenced
against Philip, in order to prove that he had forfeited the crown of Naples,
bv taking arms against the holy sec, of which he was a vassal. He recalled
all the nuncios resident in the courts of Charles V., of Philip, or of any of
their allies. This was levelled chiefly against Cardinal Pole, the papal legate
in the court of England, whose great merit, in having contributed so success-
fully to reconcile that kingdom to the church of Rome, together with the ex-
pectation of farther services which he might perform, was not sufficient to
screen him from the resentment that he had incurred by his zealous endea-
vours to establish peace between the house of Austria and Prance. He com-
manded an addition to be made to the anathemas annually denounced against
the enemies of the church on Maimday-Thursday, whereby he inflicted the
censure of excommunication on the authors of the late invasion of the eccle-
siastical tei-ritories, whatever their rank or dignity might be ; and, in conse-
quence of this, the usual prayers for the emperor were omitted next day in
tlie pope's chapel,^

But while the pope indulged himself in these wild and cliildish sallies of
rage, either he neglected, or found that it exceeded his power, to take such
measures as would have rendered his resentment really formidable and fatal
to his enemies. Por when the duke of Guise entered Rome, where he was
received with a triumphal pomp, which would have been more suitable if he
had been returning after having terminated the war with glory, than when he
was going to begin it with a doubtful chance of success, he foimd none of the
preparations for war in such forwardness as Cardinal Caraffa had promised,
or he had expected. The papal troops were far inferior in number to the
quota stipulated ; no magazines sufficient for their subsistence were formed ;
nor was money for paying them provided. The Venetians, agreeably to that
cautious maxim which the misfortunes of their state had flrst led them to
adopt, and which was now become a fundamental principle in their policy,
declared their resolution to preseiwe an exact neutrality, without taking any
part in the quarrels of piinces, so far superior to themselves in power. The
other Italian states were either openly united in league with Philip, or secretly

6 Pallav. lib. xiii. p. ]80. Mdra. de Eibier, ii. p. 678.

480 DTJKE OF GUISE'S OPERATIONS. [BOOK XDL

wished success to his arms, against a pontiff whose inconsiderate ambition
had rendered Italy once more the seat of war.

Tlie duke of Guise perceived tliat tlie whole weight of the war would de-
volve on the French troops under his command ; and became sensible, though
too late, how imprudent it is to rely, in the execution of great enterprises,
on the aid of feeble allies. Pushed on, however, by the pope's impatience for
action, as well as by his own desire of performing some part of what he had
so confidently undertaken, he marched towards Naples, and began his opera-
tions. But the success of these fell far short of his former reputation, of
what the world expected, and of what he himself had promised. He opened
the campaign with the siege of Ciyitella, a town of some importance on the
Neapolitan frontier. But the obstinacy with which the Spanish governor de-
fended it, baffled all the impetuous efforts of French valour, and obliged the
duke of Guise, after a siege of three weeks, to retire from the town with dis-
grace. He endeavoured to wipe off that stain, by advancing boldly towards
the duke of Alva's camp, and offering him battle. But that i)rudent com-
mander, sensible of all the advantages of standing on the defensive before an
invading enemy, declined an engagement, and kept within his entrenchments ;
and, adhering to his plan with the steadiness of a Castilian, eluded, with great
address, all the duke of Guise's stratagems to draw him into action.^ By this
time sickness began to waste the French army ; violent dissensions had arisen
between the duke of Guise and the commander of the pope's forces ; the
Spaniards renewed their incursions into the ecclesiastical state; the pope,
when he found, instead of the conquests and triuinph M^iich he had fondly
expected, that he could not secure Ids own territories from depredation, mur-
mured, complained, and began to talk of peace. The duke of Guise, mortified
to the last degree with having acted such an inglorious part, not only soli-
cited his court either to reinforce his army, or to recal him, but urged Paul
to fulfil his engagements : and called on Cardinal Caraffa, sometimes with
reproaches, sometimes with threats, to make good those magnificent promises,
from a rash confidence in which he had advised his master to renounce the truce
of Yaucelles, and to join in league with the pope.''

But while the French affairs in Italy were in this wretched situation, an
unexpected event happened in the Low Countries, which called the duke of
Guise from a station wherein he could acquire no honour, to the most dignified
and important charge which could be committed to a subject. As soon as
the French had discovered their purpose of violating the truce of Yaucelles,
not only by sending an army into Italy, but by attempting to surprise some
of the frontier towns in Flanders, Philip, though wiUing to have avoided a
rupture, determined to prosecute the war with such spirit, as should make
his enemies sensible that his father had not erred, when he judged him to
be so capable of government, that he had given up the reins into his hands.
As he knew that Henry had been at great expense in fitting out the army
under the duke of Guise, and that his treasury was hardly able to answer
the exorbitant and endless demands of a distant war, he foresaw that all his
operations in the Low Countries must, of consequence, prove feeble, and be
considered only as secondary to those in Italy. For that reason, he prudently
resolved to make his principal effort in that place where he expected the
French to be weakest, and to bend his chief force against that quarter where
they would feel a blow most sensibly. With this view, he assembled in the
Low Countries an army of about fifty thousand men, the Flemings servirig
him on tliis occasion with that active zeal which subjects are wont to exert in

« Herrera, Vida de Filipo, p. 181.

' Thuan. lib. xiviii. p. 614. I'allav. lib. xiii. p. 181, Burn. ii. App. 317.

lor

m

BOOK Xn,] PHILIP ENGAGES ENGLAND Df THE WAK. 481

obeying the first commands of a new sovereign. But Philip, cautious and
provident, even at that early period of life, did not rest aU his hopes of suc-
cess on that formidable force alone.

He had been labouring for some time to engage the English to espouse his
quarrel ; and though it was manifestly the interest of that kingdom to main-
tain a strict neutrality, and the people themselves were sensible of the advan-
tages which they derived from it ; though he knew how odious his name was
to the English, and how averse they would be to co-operate with him in any
measure, lie, nevertheless, did not despaii- of accomplishing his poinr. He
relied on the affection with which the queen doted on him, which was so
violent, that even his coldness and neglect had not extinguished it ; he knew
her implicit reverence for his opinion, and her fond desire of gratifying him
in every particular. That he might work on these with greater facility and
more certain success, he set out for England. The queen, who during her
husband's absence had languished in perpetual dejection, resumed fresh spirits
on his arrival ; and, without paying the least attention either to the uiterest
or to the inclinations of her people, entered warmly into all his schemes. In
vain did her privy council remonstrate against the imprudence as well as
danger of involving the nation in an unnecessary war • m vain did they put
her in mindof the solenm treaties of peace subsisting between England and
Prance, which the conduct of that nation had afforded her no pretext to
violate. Mary, soothed by Philip's caresses, or intimidated by the threats
which his ascendant over her emboldened him at some times to tlu*ow out,
was deaf to everything that could be urged In opposition to his sentiments,
and insisted with the greatest vehemence on an immediate declaration of war
against Prance. The council, though all Philip's address and jMary's autho-
rity were employed to gain or overawe them, alter struggling long, vielded at
last, not from conviction, but merely from deference to tlie will of their sove-
reign. War was declared against Erance, the only one perhaps against that
kingdom into which the English ever entered with reluctance. As Mary knew
the aversion of the nation to this measure, she durst not call a parliament in
order to raise money for carrying on the war. She supplied this want, how-
ever, by a stretch of royal prero^tive, not unusual in that aire ; and levied
large sums on her subjects by her own authority. This enabled her to as-
semble a sufficient body of troops, and to send eight thousand men, under
the conduct of the earl of Pembroke, to join Philip's army.*

Philip, who was not ambitious of military glory, gave the command of his
ai-my to Emanuel Philiberf, duke of Savoy, and' fixed his own residence at
Cambray, that he might be at hand to receive the earliest intelligence of his
motions, and to aid him with his counsels. The duke opened the campaign
with a masterly stroke of address, which justified Philip's choice, and dis-
covered such a superiority of genius over the Erench generals, as almost in-
sured success in his subsequent operations. He appointed the general ren-
dezvous of his troops at a place considerably distant from the country which
he destined to be the scene of action ; and having kept the enemy in suspense
for a good time with regard to his intentions, he at last deceived them so

cctually by the variety of his marches and countermarches, as led them to

nclude that he meant to bend all liis force against tlie province of Cham-
pagne, and would attempt to penetrate into the km^dom on that side. In
consequence of this opinion, they drew all their strength towards that quarter,
and reinforcing the garrisons there, left the towns on other parts of the fron-
tier destitute of troops sufficient to defend them.

The duke of Savoy, as soon as he perceived that this feint had its full effect,

8 Carte, iii. p. 337.

Si

482 SIEGE OP ST. QUE:N-TI2;, [ BOOK XII,

turned suddenly to Ib.e right, advanced by rapid marches into Picardy, and
sending his cavalry, in which he was extremely strong, before him, invested
St. Quentin. This was a town deemed in that age of considerable strength
and_ of great importance, as there Avere few fortified cities between it and
Paris. The fortifications, however, had been much neglected ; the garrison,
weakened by draughts sent towards Champagne, did not amount to a fifth
part of the number requisite for its defence ; and the governor, though a
Drave officer, was neither of rank nor authority equal to the command in a
place of so much consequence, besieged by such a formidable araiy. A few
days must have put the duke of Savoy in possession of the town, if the J^d-
niiral de Coligny, who thought it concerned his honour to attempt saving ^
place of such importance to his country, and which lay within his jurisdiction
as governor of Picardy, had not taken the gallant resolution of throwing him-
self into it, with such a body of men as he could collect on a sudden. This
resolution he execuied Avith great intrepidity, and, if the nature of the enter-
prise be considered, with no contemptible success ; for, though one half of his
small body of troops was cut off, he with the other broke through the enemy,
and entered the town. The unexpected arrival of an officer of such high raiik
and reputation, and who had exposed himself to such danger in order to join
them, inspired the desponding garrison with courage. Everything that the
adnural's great skill and experience in the art of w-ar could suggest, for an-
noying the enemy or defending the town, was attempted ; and the citizens, as
well as the garrison, seconding his zeal with equal ardour, seemed to be de-
termined that they would hold out to the last, and sacrifice themselves in
order to save their country.''

The duke of Savoy, whom the English, under the earl of Pembroke, joined
about this time, pushed on the siege with the greatest vigour. An army so
numerous, and so well suppUed with everything requisite, carried on its ap-
proaches with great advantage against a garrison wnich was still so feeble
that it durst seldom venture to disturb or retard the enemy's operations by
sallies. The admiral, sensible of the approaching danger, and unable to avert
it, acquainted his uncle, the Constable Montmorency, who had the connnand
of the Erench army, M'ith his situation, and pointed out to him a method by
which he might throw relief into the town. The constable, soHcitous to save
a town, the loss of which would open a passage for the enemy into the heart
of Erance, and eager to extricate his nephew out of that perilous situation, in
which zeal for the public had engaged him, resolved, though aware of the
danger, to attempt what he desired. With this view, he marched from La
Eere towards St. Quentin at the head of his army, which was not by one half
so numerous as that of the enemy, and having giVen the command of a body
of chosen men to Coligny's brother, Dandelot, who was colonel-general of the
Ereneh infantry, he ordered him to force liis way into the town by that avenue
which the admiral had represented as most practicable, while he himself, with
the main army, would give the alarm to the enemy's camp on the opposite-
side, and endeavour to dra^^^ all then- attention towards that quarter. Dande-
lot executed his orders with greater intrepidity than conduct. He rushed
on with such headlong impetuosity, that, though it broke the first bod}' of
the enemy which stood in his way, it threw his own soldiers into the utmost
confusion; and as they were attacked in that situation by fresh troops which
closed in upon them on every side, the greater part of them were cut in pieces ;
Dandelot, with about five hundred of the most a'dventui'ous and most fortunate,
making good his entrance into the town.

Meanwhile the constable, in executing his part of the plan, advanced so

9 Tliuan. lib. xix. p. 647.

BOOK XII.] BATTLE OF ST. QUENTIN— TOTAL DEFEAT OF THE FEENCK. 4851

near the camp of the besiegers, as rendered it impossible to retreat with safety
in the face ot an enemv so much superior m number. 1 he duke ot bavoy in-
stantly perceived Montmorenc/s error, and prepared, with the presence ct
mind and abilities of a great general, to avail hiraselt of it. He drew up his
army in order of battle, with the greatest expedition and, watcnng the 1119.
ment when the Erench began to tile off towa,rds La 1 ere, he detached all his
cavalrv, under the command of the count oi Lgmont, to faU on theu" rear,
while he himself, at the head of his infantry, advanced to support him. ihe
French retired at first in perfect order, andmth a good countenance; but
when thev saw Egmont draw near with his formidable body of cavalry, the
shock of which they were conscious that they could not withstand, the pros-
pect of imminent danger, added to distrust of their general, whose impru-
dence every soldier now perceived, struck them with general consternation.
Thev began insensiblv to quicken their pace, and those m the rear pressed so
violently on such as 'were before them, that m a short time their march re-
sembled a flight rather than a retreat. Egmont, observing then' contusion,
charged them with the greatest fury, and in a moment all their men-at-arms
the m-ide and strength of the Erench troops in that age, gave way, and lied
with precipitation. The infantry, however, vrliom the constable by his pre-
sence and authority, kept to their colours, stiU coiitmued to retreat m good
order, until the enemy brought some pieces of cannon to bear upon their
centre, which threw them into such contusion, that the Flemish cavalry,
renewing their attack, broke in, and the rout became umversa,l. About lour
thousanS of the French feU in the field, and among these the duke ot M-
ghien, a prince of the blood, together with six hundred gentlemen, ihe con-
stable, as soon as he perceived the fortune of the day to be irretrievable,
rushed into the thickest of the enemy, with a resolution not to survive the
ealamitv which his ill conduct had brought upon his countiy; J^t/^ving
received a dangerous wound, and being wasted with the loss ot blood, he
was surroimded by some Flemish oificers to whom he was kno\yn, who pro-
tected liim from the violence of the soldiers, andobliged him to surrender.
Besides the constable, the dukes of Montpensier and LongueviLie, the
marechal St. Andre, many officers of distinction, three hundred gent e-
men, and near four tliousand private soldiers, were taken prisoners. All the
colom-s belonging to tlie infoiitry, all the ammuoition, and all the cannon,
two pieces excepted, fell into the enemy's hands. The victorious army did
not lose above fourscore men.^'* . , . ^ an a

This battle, no less fatal to France than the ancient victories ot Orecy and
Agincourt, gained by the English on the same frontier, bore a near resem-
blance to those disastrous events, in the suddenness of the rout ; 111 the ill
conduct of the commander-in-chief; in the number of persons of note slain
or taken ; and in the small loss sustained by the enemy. It filled France with
equal consternation. Manv inhabitants of Paris, with the same precipitancy
and trepidation as if the enemy had been already at their gates, qmtted the
city, and retired into the interior provinces. The kmg, by his presence and.
exhortations, endeavoured to console and to animate such as remamed; and
applying himself with the ^-eatest diligence to repair the ruinous fortifications
of the citv, prepared to defend it against the attack which he instantly ex-
pected But, happilvfor France, Philip's caution, together with the intrepid
firmness of the Admiral de Coligny, not only saved the capital from the danger
to which it was exposed, but gained the nation a short mteryal, durmg
which the people recovered from the terror and dejection occasioned by a
blow no less severe than unexpected, and Henry had leisure to take mea-

19 Thuan. p. -650. Har«i Anna!. Brabant, ii. p. 692. Herrcra, p. 291.
2i2

484 CAUTIOUS POLICY OF PHILIP. [BOOK XII,

sures for the public security, -with the spirit which became the sovereign of a
powerful and martial people.

Philip, immediately after the battle, visited the camp at St. Quentin,
where he was received with all the exultation of military iriumpli ; and such
were his transports of joy on account of an event which threw so much
lustre on the beginning of his reign, that they softened his severe and
haughty temper into an unusual flow of courtesy. When the duke of Savoy
approached, and was kneeling to kiss his hands, he caught him in his aims,
and embracing him with warmth, — " It becomes me," said he, " rather to kiss
your hands, which have gained me such a glorious and almost bloodless
victory."

As soon as the rejoicings and congratulations on Philip's arrival were over,
a council of war was held, in order to determine how they might improve
their victory to the best advantage. The duke of Savoy, seconded by several
of the ablest officers formed under Charles V., insisted that they should im-
mediately relinquish the siege of St. Quentin, the reduction of which was
now an object below their attention, and advance directly towards Paris ; that
as there were neither troops to oppose, nor any town of strength to retard
their march, they might reach that capital while under the full impression of
the astonishment and terror occasioned by the rout of the army, and take
possession of it without resistance. But Philip, less adventurous or more
prudent than his generals, preferred a moderate but certain advantage, to
an enterprise of greater splendour but of more doubtful success. He repre-
sented to the council the infinite resources of a kingdom so powerful as
France ; the great number as well as martial spirit of its nobles ; their at-
tachment to their sovereign; the manifold advantages with which they could
carry on war in their own territories ; and the unavoidable destruction which
must be the consequence of their penetrating too rashly into the enemy's
country, before they had secured such a communication with their own as
might render a retreat safe, if, upon any disastrous^ event, that measure should
become necessary. On all these accounts, he advised the continuance of the
siege, and his generals acquiesced the more readily in his opinion, as they
made no doubt of being masters of the town in a few days, a loss of tune of
so Httle consequence in the execution of their plan, that they might easily
repair it by their subsequent activity.'^

The weakness of the fortifications, and the small number of the garrison,
which could no longer hope either for reinforcement or relief, seemed to
authorize this calculation of Philip's generals. But, in making it, they did
not attend sufficiently to the character of Admu-al de Coligny, who com-
manded in the town. A courage undismayed, and tranquil amidst the
greatest dangers, an invention fruitful in resources, a genius which roused and
seemed to acquire new force upon every disaster, a talent of governing the
minds of men, together with a capacity of mamtaining his ascendant over
them, even under circumstances the most adverse and distressful, were qua-
lities which Coligny possessed in a degree superior to any general of that age.
These qualities were peculiarly adapted to the station in which he was now
placed ; and as he knew the infinite importance to liis country of every hour
which he could gam at this juncture, he exerted himself to the utmost in con-
triving how to protract the siege, and to detain the enemy from attempting
any enterprise more dangerous to Prance. Such were the perseverance and
skill with which he conducted the defence, and such the fortitude as well as
patience with which lie animated the garrison, that thougli the Spaniards, the
c'lemings, and the English, carried on the attack mth all the ardour which

" Belcar. Commentar. de Keb. Gallic, p. 901.

BOOK XII.] henry's DEFENSrVE il[Z\S\JBES. 485

national emulation inspires, he held out the town seventeen days. He
was taken prisoner, at last, on the breach, overpowered by the superior
number of the enemy.

Henr)' availed himself, with the utmost activitv, of the interval which the
admiral's well-timed obstuiacyhad ailbrded him. He appoiuted officers to col-
lect the scattered remains of the constable's army ; he issued orders for
levying soldiers in everj' part of the kingdom ; he commanded the ban and
amere ban of the frontier provinces instantly to take the field, and to join the
duke of ISevers at Laon in Picardy; he recalled the greater part of the
veteran troops which served under the Marechal Brissac in Piedmont ; he
sent courier after courier to the duke of Guise, requiring him, together with
all his army, to return instantly for the defence of their countiy ; he de-
spatched one envoy to the grand signior, to solicit the assistance of his fleet,
and the loan of a sum of money ; he sent another into Scotland, to incite the
Scots to invade the north of England, that, by di-awing Marj-'s attention
to that quarter, he mi^ht prevent her from remforcing her troops which
served under Pliilip. Ihese ellbrts of the king were wai-mly seconded by the
zeal of his subjects. The city of Paris granted hini a free gift of three hun-
dred thousand livres. The* other great towns imitated the liberality of
the capital, and contributed in proportion. Several noblemen of distinction
engaged, at their own expense, to garrison and defend the towns which lay
most exposed to the enemy. !N*or was the general concern for the public con-
5ned to corporate bodies alone, or to those in the higher sphere of life ; but,
fliifusiug itself among persons of every rank, each individual seemed disposed
to act with as much vigour as if the honour of the king and the safety of the
state had depended solely on liis single efforts.^-

Philip, who was no stranger either to the prudent measures taken by the
French monarch for the security of his dominions, or to the spirit with which
his subjects prepared to defend themselves, perceived, when it was too late,
that he had lost an opportunity which could never oe recalled, and that it
was now vain to think of penetrating into the heart of Prance. He aban-
doned, therefore, without much reluctance, a scheme which was too bold and
hazardous to be perfectly agreeable to his cautious temper ; and employed his
army, during the remainder of the campaign, in the sieges of Ham and
Catelet. Of these he soon became master; and the reduction of two such
petty towns, together with the acquisition of St. Quentin, were all the ad-
vantages which he derived from one of the most decisive victories gained in
that century. Philip himself, however, continued in high exultation on ac-
count of his success ; and as all his passions were tinged with superstition, he,
in memory of the battle of St. Quentin, which had been fought on the day con-
secrated to St. Laurence, vowed to build a church, a monastery, and a
!)alace, in honour of that saint and martyr. Before the expiration of the year,
le laid the foundation of an edifice, in which all these were united, at the
Escurial, in the neighbourhood of Madiid ; and the same principle which
dictated the vow, directed the building. Por the plan of the work was so
formed as to resemble a gridiron, which, according to the legendaiy tale, had
been the instrument of St. Laurence's martyrdom. Notwithstanding tht

freat and expensive schemes in which his restless ambition involved him,
'hilip continued the building with such perseverance for twenty-two years,
and reserv'cd such large sums for tliis monument of his devotion and vanitv,
that the monarchs of Spain are indebted to him for a royal residence, wliieh,
though not the most elegant, is certainly the most sumptuous and magni-
ficent of any in Europe."

•2 W^m. de Kibier, ii. pp. 701. 703. " Colmdnar, Annales d'Espagne, torn. IL p. 136i

486 PEACE BETWEEN THE POPE AND PHILIP. [BOOK Xll.

The first account of that fatal blow which the French had received at St.
Quentin was carried to Home by the courier whom Henry had sent to recal
the duke of Guise. As Paul, even with the assistance of his French aux-
iliaries, had hardly been able to check the progress of the Spanish arms,
lie foresaw that, as soon as he was deprived of their protection, his terri-
tories must be overruii in a moment. He remonstrated, therefore, with the
greatest violence against the departure of the French army, reproaching the
duke of Guise for his ill conduct, which had brought him into such an un-
happy situation; and complaining of the king for deserting him so ungenerously
under such circumstances. The duke of Guise's orders, however, were pe-
remptory. Paul, inilexible as he was, found it necessary to accommodate his
conduct to the exigency of his affairs, and to employ the mediation of tlie
Yenetians, and of Cosmo de' Medici, in order to obtain peace. PhiUp, who
had been forced unwillingly to a rupture with the pope, and who, even while
success crowned his arms, doubted so much the justice of his own cause,
that he had made frequent overtures of pacification, listened eagerly to the
first proposals of this nature from Paul, and discovered such moderation ia
his demands, as could hardly have been expected from a prince elated with
victory.

The duke of Alva on the part of Philip, and the Cardinal Caraffa in the
name of his uncle, met at Cavi, and both being equally disposed to peace,
they, after a short conference, terminated the war by a treaty on the folbwing
terms : That Paul should renounce his league with France, and maintain for
the future such a neutrality as became the common lather of Christendom ;
that Philip should instantly restore all the towns of the ecclesiastical ter-
ritory of which he had taken possession ; that the claims of the Caraifas to
the duchy of Paliano, and other demesnes of the Colonnas, should be referred
to the decision of the republic of Venice ; that the duke of Alva should
repair in person to Rome, and after asking pardon of Paul in his own name,
and in that of his master, for having invaded the patrimony of the church,
should receive the pope's absolution from that crime. Thus Paul, through
Philip's scrupulous timidity, finished an unprosperous war without any de-
triment to the papal see. The conqueror appeared humble, and acknowledged
his error ; while he who had been vanquished retained his usual hauglitiness,
and was treated with every mark of superiority.^* The duke of Alva, in terras
of the treaty, repaired to Rome, and, in the posture of a suppliant, kissed the
feet and implored the forgiveness of that very person whom his arms had
reduced to the last extremity. Such was the superstitious veneration of the
Spaniards for the papal character, that Alva, though, perhaps, the proudest
man of the age, and accustomed from his infancy to a familiar intercourse
with princes, acknowledged that, when he aproached the pope, he was so
much overawed, that his voice failed, and his presence of mind forsook him.^*

But though this war, which at its commencement threatened mighty re-
volutions, was brought to an end without occasioning any alteration in those
states which were its immediate object, it had produced during its progress
effects of considerable consequence in other parts of Italy. As Philip was
extremely solicitous to terminate his quarrel with Paul as speedily as possible,
he was v/illing to make any sacrifice in order to gain those princes who, by
joining their troops to the papal and French army, might have prolonged the
war. With this view, he entered into a negotiation with Octavio Farnese,
duke of Parma, and, in order to seduce him from his alliance with France,
he restored to him the city of Placentia, with the territory depending on it,
which Charles V. had seized in the year one thousand five hundred and forty-

1* Pallav. lib. xiii. p. 183. F. Paul, p. S80. Herrera, vol. 5. p. 310.

" Pallav. lib. xiii. p. 185. Summonte, iBtoria di Napoli, iv. p. 286.

BOOE X1I.J COSMO DE' ItEDICI OBTAINS POSSESSION OP SIENA. 487

seven, and kept from that time in his possession, and had transmitted,
together with his other dominions, to Philip.

This step made such a discovcrj- of Phihp's character and views to Cosmo
de* Medici, the most sagacious as well as provident of all the Italian princes,
that he conceived hopes of accomplishing his favourite scheme of adding
Siena and its territories to his donnnions in Tuscany. As his success in this
attempt depended entirely on the delicacy of addi'css with which it should be
conducted, he employed all the refinements of policy in the negotiation which
lie s^t on foot for this purpose. He began with solicitbig Philip, whose
treasury he knew to be entirely drained by the expense of the war, to repay
the great sums which he had advanced to the emperor during the siege of
Siena, When Philip endeavoured to elude a demand which he was miable
to satisfy, Cosmo affected to be extremely disquieted, and making no secret
of his disgust, instructed his ambassador at liome to open a negotiation
with the pope, which seemed to be the effect of it. The anibassador executed
his commission with such dexterity, that Paul, imagining Cosmo to be entirely
alienated from the Spanish interest, proposed to him an alliance with Prance,
which should be cemented by the marriage of his eldest son to one of Henry's
daughters. Cosmo received the overture with such apparent satisfaction,
and with so many professions of gratitude for the high honour of which he had
the prospect, that not only the pope's ministers, but the Prench envoy at
Home, talked confidently, and with little reserve, of the accession of that
important ally as a matter certain and decided. The account of this was
quickly carriecl to Philip ; and Cosmo, who foresaw how much it would alarm
him, had despatched his nephew, Ludovico di Toledo, into the Netherlands,
that he might be at hand to observe and take advantage of liis consternation,
before the first impression which it made should in any degree abate. Cosmo
was extremely fortunate m the choice of the instrument whom he em-
ployed. Toledo waited with patience until he discovered with certainty that
Philip had received sueh intelligence of liis uncle's negotiations at Rome as
must have filled his suspicious mind with fear and jealousy; and then
craving an audience, he required payment of the mone}" wliich had been
borrowed by the emperor, in the most earnest and peremptorv terms. In
urging that point, he artfully threw out several dark hints and ambiguous
declarations, concerning the extremities to which Cosmo might be driven by
a refusal of tliis just demand, as well as by other grievances of which he had
good reason to complain.

Philip, astonished at: an address in such a strain, from a prince so far his
inferior as the duke of Tuscany, and comparing what he now heard with the
information which he had received from Italy, immediately concluded that
Cosmo had ventured to assume this bold and imusual tone on the prospect
of his union with Prance. In order to prevent the pope and Henry irom
acquiring an ally, who, by his abilities, as well as the situation of his do-
minions, would have added both reputation and strength to their confede-
racy, he offered to grant Cosmo the investiture of Siena, if he would consent
to accept of it as an equivalent for the sums due to him, and engage to fur-
nish a body of troops towards the defence of Pidlip's territories in Italy,
against any power who should attack them. As soon as Cosmo had brought
Philip to make this concession, which was the object of all his artifices and
intrigues, he did not protract the negotiation by an unnecessary delav, or any
excess of retiuement, but closed eagerly with the proposal ; and Philip, in
spite of the remonstrances of his ablest counsellors, signed a treaty with him
to that effect.''

As no prince was ever more tenacious of his rights than Philip, or less

" Thuan. lib. xviii. p. 624. Herrera, i. w. 2G3, 275. Pallav. lib. xiii. p. 180

4:38 THE DUKE OF GUISE LEAVES EOME FOR FSANCE. [BOOK XII,

willing to relinquisli any teiTitory which, he possessed, by what tenure soever
he held it, these unusual concessions to the dukes of Parma and Tuscany,
by which he wantonly gave up countries, in acquiring or defending which his
father had employed many years, and wasted much blood and treasure,
cannot be accounted for from any motive but his superstitious desire of
extricating himself out of the war which he had been forced to wage against
the pope. By these treaties, however, the balance of power among the Italian
states was poised with greater equality, and rendered less variable, than it
had been since it received the first violent shock from the invasion of Charles
YIIT. of Prance. Prom this period Italy ceased to be the great theatre
on which the monarchs of Spain, Prance, and Germany contended for i)ower
or for fame. Their dissensions and hostilities, though as frequent and violent
as ever, being excited by new objects, stained other regions of Europe with
blood, and rendered them miserable in their turn, by the devastations of war.

The duke of Guise left Rome on the same day that his adversary, the duke
of Alva, made his humiliating submission to the pope. He was received in
Prance as the guardian angel of the kmgdom. His late ill success in Italy
seemed to be forgotten, while his former ser\dces, particularly his defence
of Metz, were recounted with exaggerated praise ; and he was welcomed in
every city through which he passed as the restorer of public security, who,
after having set bounds by his conduct and valour to the victorious arms
of Charles V., returned now, at the call of his country, to check the for-
midable progress of Philip's power. The reception which he met with from
Henrv was no less cordial and honourable. New titles were invented, and
new dignities created, in order to distinguish him. He was appointed lieu-
tenant-general in chief, both within and without the kingdom, with a juris-
diction almost unlimited, and hardly inferior to that which was possessed
by the king himself. Thus, through the singular felicity which attended the
princes of Lorrain, the miscarriage of their own schemes contributed to ag-
grandize them. The calamities of his country, and the ill conduct of his
rival, the constable, exalted the duke of Guise to a height of dignity and power,
which he could not have expected to attain by the most fortunate and. most
complete success of his own ambitious projects.

The duke of Guise, eager to perform something suitable to the high expec-
tations of his countrymen, and that he might justify the extraordinary con-
fidence which the king had reposed in him, ordered all the troops which could
be got together, to assemble at Compiegne. Though the winter was well
advanced, and had set in with extreme severity, he placed liiniself at their
head and took the field. By Henry's activity, and the zeal of his subjects,
so many soldiers had been raised in the kuigdom, and such considerable re-
inforcements had been drawn from Germany and Switzerland, as formed an
amiy respectable even in the eyes of a victorious enemy. Philip, alarmed at
seeing it put in motion at such an uncommon season, began to treinble for
his new conquests, particularly St. Quentin, the fortifications of which were
hitherto but imperfectly repaired.

[1558.] But the duke of Guise meditated a more important enterprise;
ind, after amusing the enemy with threatening successively different towns
on the frontiers of Planders, he turned suddenly to the left, and invested
oalais with his whole army. Calais had been taken by the Enghsh under
Edward III., and was the fruit of that monarch's glorious victory at Crecy.
Being the only place that they retained of their ancient and extensive terri-
tories in Prance, and which opened to them, at all times, an easy and secure
passage into the heart of that kingdom, their keeping possession of it soothed
the pride of the one nation as much as it mortified the vanity of the other.
Its situation was naturaUv so strong, and its Ibrtifications deemed so im-

I

BOOK XII.] THE FEEKCH, THTDES GtlSZ, TAEJE CALAI3. 4?9

Erej^nablc, that no monarch of France, however adventurous soever, had
ecu bold enough to attack it. Even when the domestic strength of Endand
was broken and exhausted bvthc bloody wars between the houses of York
and Lancaster, and its attention entirely diverted from foreign objects, Calais
had remained undisturbed and unthrcatened. Mary and her council, com-
posed cliiefljr of ecclesiastics, unacquainted \vith military affairs, and whose
whole attention was turned towards extirpating heresy out of tne kingdom,
had not only neglected to take any precautions for the safety of this im-
portant place, but seemed to think that the reputation of its strength
was alone sufficient for its security. Eull 9f this opinion, they ventured,
even after the declaration of war, to continue a practice which the lovr
state of the queen's finances had introduced in times of peace. As the
country adiacent to Calais was overflowed during the winter, and the marshes
around it became impassable, except by one avenue, which the forts of St.
Agatha and Nc^Tiham-bridge commanded, it had been the custom of the
English to dismiss the greater part of the garrison towards the end of
autumn, and to replace it in the spring. In vain did Lord Wentworth, the
governor of Calais, remonstrate against this ill-timed parsimony, and repre-
sent the possibility of his beings attacked suddenly, while he had not troops
sufficient to man the works. The privy-council treated these remonstrances
with scorn, as if they had flowed trom the timidity or the rapaciousness of
the governor ; and some of them, with that confidence which is the com-
panion of ignorance, boasted that they would defend Calais with their white
rods against any enemy who should approach it during winter.'' In vain did
Philip, who had passed through Calais as he returned from England to the
Netherlands, warn the queen of the danger to which it was exposed ; and,
acquainting her with what was necessary for its security, in vain did he offer
to reinforce the garrison during winter with a detachment of his own troops.
Mary's counsellors, though obsequious to her in all points wherein religion
was concerned, distrusted, as much as the rest of their countrj-men, every
proposition that came from her husband; and suspecting this to be an
artifice of Philip's, in order to gain the command of the town, they neg-
lected his intelligence, declined his offer, and left Calais with less than a
fourth part of tiie garrison requisite for its defence.

His Knowledge of this encouraged the duke of Guise to venture on an
enterprise, that surprised his own countrjTnen no less than his enemies. As
he knew that its success depended on conducting his operations with such
rapidity as would aflbrd the English no time for throwing rcKef into the
town bv sea, and prevent Philip from giving him any intermption by land,
he pushed the attack with a degree of vigour little known in carrying on
sieges during that age. He drove the English from fort St. Agatha at the
first assault. He obhged them to abandon the fort of Newnham-bridge, after
dcfendini» it only three days. He took the castle which commanded the
liarbour by storm ; and, on the eighth day after he appeared before Calais,
• compelled the governor to surrender, as his feeble garrison, which did not
exceed five hundred men, was worn out with the fatigue of sustaining so
many attacks, and defending such extensive works.

The duke of Guise, without allowmg the Endish time to recover from the
consteniation occasioned by tliis blow, immediately invested Guisnes, the
garrison of which, though more numerous, defended itself with less vigour,
and, after standing one brisk assault, gave up the town. The castle of Hames
was abandoned by the troops posted there, without waiting the approach ot
the enemy.

'* Carte, ill. p. 345.

490 PAUL DISPUTES FERDINAND'S ELECTION AS EMPEROR. [BOOK XII.

Thus, in a few days, during tlie depth of winter, and at a time when the
fatal battle of St. Quentin had so depressed the sanguine spirit of the French,
that their utmost aim was to protect their o^vn country, v/ithout dreaming of
making conquests on the enemy, the enterprising valour of one man drove
the English out of Calais, after they had held it two hundred and ten years,
and deprived them of every foot of land in a kmgdom where their dominions
hacLbeen once very extensive. This exploit, at the same time that it gave a
liigh idea 9f the power and resources of France to all Europe, set the
duke of Guise, in the opinion of his countrymen, far above all the generals
of the age. They celebrated his conciuests with immoderate transports of
joy ; while the English gave vent to all the passions which animate a high-
spirited people, when any great national calamity is manifestly owing to the
iH-conduct of their rulers. Mary and her ministers, formerly odious, were now
contemptible in their eyes. Ail the teiTors of her severe and arbitrary ad-
ministration could not restrain them from uttering execrations and threats
against those who, having wantonly involved the nation in a quarrel wherein
it was nowise interested, had, by their negligence or incapacity, brought
irreparable disgrace on their countrj', and lost the most valuable possession
belonging to the English crown.

The king of Erance imitated the conduct of its former conqueror, Edward
III., with regard to Calais, He commanded all the English inhabitants
to quit the town, and giving their houses to his own subjects, whom he
allured to settle there by granting them various immunities, he left a nu-
merous garrison, under an experienced governor, tor their defence. After
this, his victorious array was conducted into quarters of refreshment, and the
usual inaction of winter returned.

Daring these various operations, Eerdinand assembled the college of electors
at Erancfort, in order to lay before them the instrument whereby Charles Y.
had resigned the imperial crown, and transferred it to him. This he had
hitherto delayed on account of some difficulties which had occurred concern-
ing the formalities requisite in supplying a vacancy occasioned by an event,
to which there is no parallel in the annals of the empire, _ These being at
length adjusted, the prmce of Orange executed the commission with which
he had been intrusted by Charles : the electors accepted of his resignation ;
declared Eerdinand his lawful successor ; and put him in possession of all the
ensigns of the imperial dignity.

Eut when the new emperor sent Gusman, his chancellor, to acquaint the
pope with this transaction, to testify his reverence towards the holy see, and
to signify that, according to form, he would soon despatch an ambassador ex-
traordinary to treat with his holiness concerning liis coronation ; Paul, whom
neither experience nor disappointments could teach to bring down his lofty
ideas of the papal prerogative to such a moderate standard as suited the
genius of the times, refused to admit the envoy into his presence, and declared
all the proceedings at Erancfort irregular and invalid. He contended that
the pope, as the vicegerent of Christ, was intrusted with the keys both of
spiritual and of civil government ; that from him the imperial jurisdiction
was derived; that though his predecessors had authorized the electors to
choose an emperor whom the holy see confirmed, this privilege was confined
to those cases when a vacancy was occasioned by death; that the instru-
ment of Charles's resignation had been presented' in an unproper court, as
it belonged to the pope alone to reject or to accept of it, and to nominate a
person to fill the imperial throne ; that, setting aside all these objections,
Eerdinand's election laboured under two defects, which alone were sufficient
to render it void, for the protestant electors had been admitted to vote,
tliougb, by their apostasy from the catholic faith, they had forfeited that and

BOOK XnJ MARRIAGE OF THE DAUPHIN AND QUEEN 01 SCOTS. 491-

every other privilege of the electoral oflEice ; and Ferdinand, by ratifyin* the
concessions of several diets iu favour of heretics, had rendered himself un-
worthy of the imperial dignity, wliich was instituted for the protection, not
for the destruction, of the church. But after thundering out these extrava-
gant maxims, he added, with an appearance of coudescensiou, that if Ferdi-
nand woidd renounce all title to the imperial cro\\Ti, founded on the election
at Fraucfort, make professions of repentance for his past conduct, and sup-

glicate him, with due humility, to confirm Charles's resignation, as well as
is own assmuption to the empire, he might expect every mark of favour
from his paternal clemency and goodness. Gusman, though he had fore-
seen considerable difficulties in his negotiation with the pope, little_ ex-
pected that he would have revived those antiquated and wild pretensions,
wliich astonished him so much, that he hardly knew in what tone he ought to
reply. He prudently declined entering into any controversy concerning the
nature or extent of the papal jurisdiction, and confining himself to the political
considerations, which should determine the pope to recognise an emperor al-
ready in possession, he endeavoured to place them iu such a light as he
imagined could scarcely fail to strike Paul, if he were not altogether blind
to his .own interest. Pldlip seconded Gusman's arguments with great
earnestness, by an ambassador whom he sent to Rome on purpose, and be-
sought the pope to desist from claims so unseasonable, as might npt only
irritate and alann Ferdinand and the princes of the empire, but fui-nish the
enemies of tlie holy see with a new reason for representing its jurisdiction as
incompatible with the ri§:hts of pruices, and subversive of ail civil authority.
But Paul, who deemed it a crime to attend to any consideration suggested
by human prudence or policy, when he thought himself called upon to assert
the prerogatives of the papal see, remained infiexible ; and during his pon-
tificate, Ferdinand was not acknowledged as emperor by the couri of Rome.'**
While Henry was intent upon his preparations for the approaching cam-
paign, he received accounts of the issue of his negotiations in Scotland. Long
experience having at last taught the Scots the imprudence of involving their
country in every quarrel between France and England, neither the solicita-
tions of the French ambassador, nor the address and authority of the queen
regent, could prevail on them to take arms against a kingdom with which
they were at peace. On this occasion, the ardour of a martial nobility and of
a turbulent people was restrained by regard for the pubKc interest and tran-
quillity, which, in former deliberations of this kind, had been seldom at-
tended to by a nation always prone to msh into every new war. But
though the Scots adhered with steadiness to their pacific system, they were
extremely ready to gratify the French king in another particular, which he
had given in charge to his ambassador.

The young queen of Scots had been affianced to the dauphin, in the year
one thousand five hundi-ed and forty-eight, and having been educated since
that time in the coui-t of France, she had grown up 1 o be the most amiable,
and one of the most accomplished princesses of that age. Henry demanded
the consent of her subjects to the celebration of the marriage ; and a par-
liament, which was held for that purpose, appointed eight commissioners to
represent the whole body of the nation at that solemnity, with power to si^n
such deeds as might be requisite before it was concluded. In settling the
articles of the marriage, the Scots took eveiy precaution that prudence coidd
dictate, in order to preserve the hberty and independence of theii- country ;_
"while the French used every art to secure to the dauphin the conduct of

" Godleveus de Abdicat. Car. V. ap. Gold. Polit. Imper. p. 392. Pallav. lib. xiii. p.
189. Mem. de Kibier, ii. pp. 746, 751).

492 DEFEAT OF THE FREXCH AT GRAYELIXES. [BOOK XD.

affairs during the queen's life, and tlie succession of the crown on the event
of her demise. The marriage was celebrated with pomp suitable to the
dignity of the parties, and the magnificence of a court at that time the most
splendid in Europe.'^^ Thus Henry, in the course of a few months, had
the glory of recovering an important possession which had anciently be-
longed to the crown of France, and of addin* to it the acquisition of a new
kingdom. ^ By this event, too, the duke of Guise acquired new considera-
tion and importance ; the marriage of his niece to the apparent heir of the
crown, raising him so far above the condition of other subjects, that the
credit which he had gained by his great actions seemed thereby to be ren-
dered no less permanent than it was extensive.

When the campaign opened, soon after the dauphm's marriage, the duke
of Guise was placed at the head of the army, with the same unlimited
powers as formerly. Henry had received such liberal supplies from his
subjects, that the troops under his command were both numerous and well
appointed ; while Philip, exhausted by the extraordinary efforts of the pre-
ceding year, had been obliged to dismiss so many of his forces during the
winter, that he could not bring an army into the field capable of making
head against the enemy. The duke of Guise did not lose the favourable
opportunity which his superiority afforded him. He invested Thionville in
the duchy of Luxembourg, one of the strongest towns on the frontiers of the
Netherlands, and of great importance to France by its neighbourhood to
Metz ; and, notwithstanding the obstinate valour with which it was defended,
he forced it to capitulate_ after a siege of three weeks.*"

But the success of this enterprise, which it was expected would lead to
other conquests, was more than counterbalanced by an event which happened
in another part of the Low Countries. The Marechal de Termes, governor
of Calais, having penetrated into Flanders without opposition, invested Dun-
kirk with an army of fourteen thousand men, and took it by stonn on the
fifth day of the siege. Hence he advanced towards Nieuport, which must
have soon fallen into his hands, if the approach of the count of Egmont with
a superior army had not made it prudent to retreat. The French troops were
so much encumbered with the booty which they had got at Dunkirk, or by
ravaging the open country, that they moved slowly ; and Egmont, w]io had
left his heavy baggage and artillery behind him, marched with such rapidity
that he came up with them near Gravelines, and attacked them with the
utmost impetuosity. De Ternies, who had the choice of the ground, having
posted his troops to advantage in the angle formed by the mouth of the river
Aa and the sea, received him with great firmness. Yictoiy remained foi
some time in suspense, the desperate valour of the French, who foresaw the
unavoidable destruction that must follow upon a rout in an enemy's coimtry,
counterbalancing the superior number of the Flemings, when one of those
accidents to which human prudence does not extend, decided the contest in
favour of the latter. A squadron of English ships of war, which was craizing
on the coast, being drawn by the noise of the firing towards the place of the
engagement, entered the river Aa, and turned its great guns against the right
wing of the French, with such effect as immediately broke that body, and
spread terror and confusion through the whole army. The Flemings, to whom
assistance, so unexpected and so seasonable, gave fresh spirit, redoubled their
efforts, that they might not lose the advantage which fortune had presented
them, or give the enemy time to recover from their consternation, and the
rout of the French soon became universal. Near two thousand were killed on

19 Keith's History of Scotland, p. 73. Append. 13. Corps Diplom. v. 21.
2" Tbuan. lib. xx. p. 690.

BOOK Xn.j ALL PAETIES DESIHOXJS Of PEACE. 493

the spot ; a greater number fell bv the hands of the peasants, who, in re-
venge for the cruelty with which tneir country hud been plundered, pursued
the fugitives, and massacred them without mercy ; the rest were taken pri-
soners, together with De Termes, their general, and many officers of dis-
tinction.^'

This signal yietorv, for which the count of Egmont was afterwards so ill
requited by Philip, obliged the duke of Guise to relinquish all other schemes,
ana to hasten towards the frontiers of Picardy, that he might oppose the
progress of the enemy in that provmce. This disaster, however, reflected
new lustre on his reputation, and once more turned the eyes of his country-
men towards him, as the only general on whose arms victory always attended,
and in whose conduct, as well as good fortune, they could confide in every
danger. Henry reiuforced the duke of jGruise's army with so many troops
drawn from the adjacent garrisons, that it soon amounted to forty thousand
men. That of the enemy, after the junction of Egmont with the duke of
Savoy, was not inferior in number. They encamped at the distance of a few
leagues from one another ; and each monarch having joined his respective
army, it was expected, after the vicissitudes of good and bad success during
this and the former campaign, that a decisive battle would at last determine
which of the rivals should take the ascendant for the future, and give law
to Europe. But, though both had it in their power, neither of them dis-
covered any incHnation to bring the determination of such an important point
to depend upon the uncertain issue of a single battle. The fatal engagements
at St. Quentm and Gravelines were too recent to be so soon forgotten ; and
the prospect of encoimtering the same troops, commanded by the same ge-
nerals who had twice triumphed over his arms, inspired Henry with a degree
of caution which was not common to him. Philip, of a genius averse to Bold
operations in war, naturally leaned to cautious measures, and was not disposed
to liazard anything against a general so fortunate and successful as the duke
of Guise. Both monarchs, as if by a^eement, stood on the defensive, and,
fortifnn^ their camps carefully, avoided every skirmish or rencounter that
nu^ht bring on a general engagement.

VVhile the armies continued in this inaction, peace began to be mentioned
in each camp, and both Henry and Philip discovered an inclination to listen
to any overture that tended to re-establish it. The kingdoms of France and
Spain had been engaged during half a century in almost continual wars,
carried on at a great expense, and productive of no considerable advantage
to either. Exhausted by extraordinarv and unceasing efforts, which far ex-
ceeded those to which the nations of Eurppe had been accustomed before
the rivalship between Charles V. and Prancis L, both nations longed so much
for an interval of repose, in order to recruit their strength, that their sove-
reigns drew from theni with difficulty the supplies necessary for carrjiu^
on hostilities. The private inclinations of both the kings concurred with
those of their people. Philip was prompted to wish for peace by his fond
desire of returning to Spain. Accustomed from his infancy to the climate
and manners of that country, he was attached to it with such extreme predi-
lection, that he never felt himself at ease in any other part of his dominions.
But as he could not quit the Low Countries, either with decenev or safety,
and venture on a voyage to Spain, during the continuance of war, the prospect
of a pacification, which would put it in his power to execute his tavourit e
scheme, was highly acceptable. Henry was no less desnous of being deli-
vered from the burden and occupations of war, that he might have leisure to
turn his attention, and bend the whole force of liis government, towards sup-

" Thuan. lib. xx. p. 694.

494 'ZHE COilSTAJBLE MONTMORENCY. [BOOK XII.

pressing the opinions of the reformers, whicli were spreading v/ith such
rapidity in Paris, and other great to^vns of France, that they began to grow
formidable to the established church,

Besides these public and avowed considerations arising from the state of
the two hostile kingdoms, or from the wishes of their respective monarchs,
there was a secret intrigue carried on in the court of France, which contri-
buted as much as either of the other to hasten and to facilitate the negotia^-
tion of a peace. The constable Montmorency, duiing his captiA^ty. beheld
the rapid success and growing favour of the duke of Guise with the envy
natural to a rival. Every advantage gained by the princes of Lorrain he con-
sidered as a fresh wound to his own reputation, and he knew with what male-
volent address it would be improved to diminish his credit with the king,
and to augment that of the duke of Guise. _ These arts, he was afraid, might,
by degrees, work on the easj^ and ductile mind of Henry, so as to efface all
remains of his ancient aifection toAvards himself. But he could not discover
any remedy for this, unless he were allowed to return home, that he might try
whether by his presence he could defeat the artifices of his enemies, and revive
those warm and tender sentiments which had long attached Henry to him,
with a confidence so entire, as resembled rather the cordiality of private
friendship than the cold and selfish connexion between a monarch and one
of his courtiers. While Montmorency was forming schemes and wishes for
his return to France, with much anxiety of mind, but with little hope of suc-
cess, an unexpected incident prepared the way for it. The cardinal of Lor.
rain, who had shared with his brother in the king's favour, and participated
of the power which that conferred, did not bear prosperity with the same dis-
cretion as the duke of Guise. Intoxicated with their good fortune, he forgot
how much they had been indebted for their present elevation to their con-
nexions with the duchess of Valentinois, and vainly ascribed all to the extra-
ordinary merit of their family. This led him not only to neglect his bene-
factress, but to thwart her schemes, and to talk with a sarcastic liberty of
her character and person. That singular woman, who, if we may believe
contemporary writers, retained the beauty and charms of youth at the age
of threescore, and on whom it is certain that Henry still doted with all the
fondness of love, felt this injury with sensibility, and set herself with eager-
ness to inflict the vengeance which it merited. As there was no method of
supplanting the princes-of Lorrain so effectually as by a coalition of interests
with the constable, she proposed the marriage of her granddaughter with one
of his sons, as the bond of tlieir future union ; and Montmorency readily gave
his consent to the match. Having thus cemented their alliance, the
duchess employed all her influence with the king, in order to confirai his
inclinations towards peace, and to induce him to take the steps necessary
for attaining it. She insinuated that any overture of that kind would
come with great propriety from the constable, and, if entrusted to the conduct
of his prudence, could hardly fail of success. _

Henr>^, long accustomed to commit all affairs of importance to the manage-
ment of the constable, and needing only this encouragement to return to his
ancient habits, wrote to him immediately^ vrith his usual familiarity and
affection, empowering him, at the same time, to take the first opportunity
of sounding Philip and his ministers with regard to peace. Montmorency
made his application to Philip by the most proper channel. He opened him-
self to the duke of Savoy, who, notwithstandmg the hi^h command to
which he had been raised, and the military glory wliich he had acquired m
the Spanish seiwice, was weary of remaining in exile, and languished t9 retura
into his paternal dominions. As there was no prospect of liis recovering pos
session of them by force of arms, he considered a definitive treaty of peace

BOOK Xll.] DEATH ur CJiAULliS V. — HAJBITS DUPJNG IIIS RETREAT. 495

between Finance and Spain as the only event by which lie could hope to
obtain restitution. Beinu; no stranger to Philip's private wishes with regard
to peace, he easily prevailed ou him not only to discover a disposition on his

Eart towards accommodation, but to permit Montmorency to return on
is i)arole to France, that he might conllrm liis own sovereign in his pacific
sentiments. Henry received the constable with the most flattering marks
of regard ; absence, instead of having abated or extinguished the monarch's
friendship, seemed to have given it new ardour. Montmorency, from the mo-
ment of his appearance in court, assumed, if possible, a higher place than
ever in his aflection, and a more perfect ascendant over his mind. The car-
dinal of Lorrain and the duke of Guise prudently gave way to a tide of favour
too strong for them to oppose, and, confining themselves to their proper de-

f)artments, permitted, without any struggle, the constable and duchess of Va-
entiuois to direct public atl'airs at their pleasure. They soon prevailed on the
king to nominate plenipotentiaries to treat of peace. Philip did the same.
The abbey of Cercamp was fixed on as the place of congress ; and all military
operations were immediately terminated by a suspension of arms.

While these preliminary steps were taking towards a treaty which restored
tranquillity to Europe, Charles V., whose ambition had so long disturbed it,
ended his days in the monastery of St. Justus. When Charles entered this
retreat, he formed such a plan of life for himself as would have suited the con-
dition of a private gentleman of a moderate fortune. His table was neat but
plain; his domestics few ; his intercourse with them familiar ; all the cum-
bei-some and ceremonious forms of attendance on his person were entirely
abolished, as destructive of that social ease and tranquillity which he courtect,,
in order to soothe the remainder of his days. As the mildness of the climate,
together with his deliverance from the burdens and cares of government, pro-
cured him at first a considerable remission from the acute pains with which
he had long been tormented, he enjoyed, perhaps, more complete satisfaction
in tliis humble solitude than aU his grandeur had ever yielded him. The am-
bitious thoughts and projects which had so long engrossed and disquieted
him, were quite effaced from his mind ; far from taking any part in the po-
litical transactions of the princes of Europe, he restrained his cmiosity even
from any inquiry concerning them ; and ne seemed to view the busy scene
which he had abandoned with aU the contempt and indifference arising from
his thorough experience of its vanity, as well as from the pleasing reflection
of having disentangled himself from its cares.

Other amusements and other objects now occupied liim. Sometimes he
cultivated the plants in liis garden vrith his own hands ; sometimes he rode
out to the neiglibouring wood on a little horse^ the only one that he kept,
attended by a single servant on foot. When his infiraiities confined him to
Ills apartment, which often happened, and deprived him of these more active
■recreations, he either admitted a few gentlemen who resided near the monas-
tery to visit him, and entertained them familiarly at his table; or he employed
himself in studying mechanical principles, and in forming curious works of
mechanism, of wliich he had always been remarkably fond, and to which his
•genius was peculiarly tm-ned. With this view he had engaged Turriano, one
of the most ingenious artists of that age, to accompany him in his retreat.
He laboured together with him in framing models of the most useful machines,
as well as in making experiments with regard to their respective powers ;
and it was not seldom that the ideas of the monarch assisted or perfected the
inventions of the artist. He relieved his mind, at inteiTals, with slighter and
more fantastic works of mechanism, in fasliioning puppets, which, by the
structure of internal springs, mimicked the gestures and actions of men, to
£he astonishment of the ignorant monks, who, beholding movements which

4i% CAUSES OP CnAELEs's DEATH. [BOOK XIL

they could rwot coinprehend, sometimes distrasted their owii senses, and some-
times suspected Charles and Tuniano of being in compact with invisible
powers. He was particularly curious with regard to the construction of
clocks and watches ; and having found, after repeated trials, that he could
not bring any two of them to go exactly alike, he reflected, it is said, with
a mixture of surprise as well as regret, on his own follv, in having bestowed
so much time and labour on the more vain attempt of f3ringing mankind to a
precise uniformity of sentiment concerning the profound and mysterious doc-
trines of religion.

But in what manner soever Charles disposed of the rest of his time, he
constantly reserved a considerable portion of it for religious exercises. He
regularly attended divine service ni the chapel of the monastery, every morn-
ing and evening ; he took great pleasure in reading books of devotion, par-
ticularly the works of St. Augustine and St. Bernard ; and conversed much
with his confessor and the prior of the monastery, on pious subjects. Thus
did Charles pass the first year of his retreat, in a manner not unbecoming a
man perfectly disengaged from the affairs of the present life, and standing on
tlie confines of a future world ; either in innocent amusements, which soothed
his pains, and relieved a mind worn out with excessive application to busi-
ness ; or in devout occupations, which he deemed necessary in preparing for
another state.

But about six months before his death, the gout, after a longer intennission
than usual, returned with a proportional increase of violence. His shattered
constitution had not vigour enough remaining to withstand such a shock.
It enfeebled his mind as much as his body, and from tliis period we hardly
discern any traces of that sound and masculine understanding which distin-
guished Charles among his contemporaries. _ An illiberal and timid super-
stition depressed his spirit. He had no relish for amusements of any kmd.
He endeavoured to confonn, in his manner of living, to all the rigour of
monastic austerity. He desired no other society than that of monks, and
was almost continually employed with them in chanting the h>Tnns of the
missal. As an expiation for his sins, he gave himself the discipline in secret
with such severity, that the whip of cords which he employed as the instru-
ment of his punishment was fo\md, at^er his decease, tinged with his blood.
Nor was he satisfied with these acts of mortification, which, however severe,
were not unexampled. ^ The timorous and distrustful solicitude which always
accompanies superstition, still contitiued to disquiet him, and, depreciating
all the devout exercises in which he had hitherto been engaged, promptea
him to aim at something extraordinary, at some new and singular act of piety,
that would display his zeal and merit the favour of heaven. The act on which
he fixed was as wild and uncommon as any that superstition ever suggested
to a weak and disordered fancy. He resolved to celebrate his own obsequies
before his death. He ordered his tomb to be erected in the chapel of the
monastery. His domestics marched thither in funeral procession, with black
tapers in their hands. He liimself followed in his shroud. He was laid in
his coffin, with much solemnity. The service for the dead was chanted, and
Charles joined in the prayers which were offered up for the rest of his soul,
mingling his tears with those which his attendants sued, as if they had been
celebrating a real funeral. The ceremony closed with sprinkling holy water
on the coffin in the usual form, and all the assistants retiring, the doors of the
chapel were shut. Then Charles rose out of the coffin, and withdrew to his
apartment, full of those awful sentiments which such a singular solemnity
was calculated to inspire. But either the fatiguing length of the ceremony,
or the impression which the image of death left on his mind, affected him so
much, that next day he was seized with a fever. His feeble frame could not

BOOK XII.] HIS CHABACTEa AND GENIUS. 497

lon^ resist its violence, and he expired on the twenty-first of September, after
a liie of fifty-eight vears, six months, and twenty-five days.-

As Cliarles was the first prince of the age in rank and dignitv, the part wliich
he acted, whether we consider tlic j^reatness, the variety, or the success of his
undertakings, was the most conspicuous. It is from an attentive observa-
tion of liis conduct, not from the exaggerated praises of the Sijanish histo-
rians, or the undistinguishiug censure of the Erench, that a just idea of
Charles's genius and abilities is to be collected. He possessed qualities so
peculiar, that they strongly mark his characterj and not only distinguish him
Irom the princes who were his contemporanes, but account for that su-
periority over them which he so long maintained. In forming his schemes, he
was by natiu*e, as well as by habit, cautious and considerate. Bom with
talents wliich unfolded themselves slowly, and were late in attaining maturity,
he was accustomed to ponder every subject that demanded his consideration
with a careful and deliberate attention. He bent the whole force of liis
mind towards it, and, dwelling upon it with a serious application, undiverted
by pleasure, and haraly relaxed by any amusement, he revolved it, in silence,
in his own breast. He then communicated the matter to his ministers, and,
after hearing their opLuions, took his resolution with a decisive firmness,
which seldom follows such slow and seemingly hesitating consultations. Of
consequence, Chai'les's measures, instead of resembling the desultory^ and ir-
regular sallies of Henry VIII. or Francis I., had the appearance of a con-
sistent system, in which all the parts were an-anged, all the effects were fore-
seen, ana even every accident was provided for. His promptitude in execution
was no less remarkable than his patience in deliberation. He did not dis-
cover gi-eater sagacity in his choice of the measures which it was proper to
pursue, than fertility of genius in finding out the means for rendering his
pursuit of them successful. Though he had naturally so little of the martial
turn, that, during the most ardent and bustling period of life, he remained
in the cabinet inactive, yet, when he chose at length to appear at the head
of liis armies, his mind was so formed for vigorous exertions in every dkec-
tion, that he acquired such knowledge in the art of war, and such talents for
command, as rendered him equal in reputation and success to the most able
generals of the age. But Charles possessed, in the most eminent degree,
the science which is of greatest importance to a monarch, that of knowing
men, and of adapting their talents to the various departments which he
allotted to them. From the death of Cliievres to the end of liis reign, he em-
|)loyed no general in the field, no minister in the cabinet, no ambassador to a
toreign court, no governor of a province, whose abilities were inadequate to
the trust which he reposed in them. Though destitute of that bewitching
affability of manners which gained Francis tlie hearts of all who approached
his person, he was no stranger to the virtues Avhich secure fidelity and attach-
ment. He placed unbounded confidence m his generals ; he rewarded their
services with munificence ; he neither envied their fame, nor discovered any
jealousy of their power. Almost all the generals who conducted his armies
may be placed on a level with those illustrious personages who have attained
the highest eminence of military glory : and his advantages over his rivals are
to be ascribed so manifestly to the superior abilities of the commanders
whom he set in opi)osition to them, that this might seem to detract, in
some degree, from his own merit, if the talent of discovering, and steadi-
ness in emplo}Tng such instruments, were not the most undoubted proofs of a
capacity for government.

« Strada de Bello Belg. lib. i. p. 11. Thuan. p. 723. Sandov. Ji. pp. 609, &c. Mi-

ioi

ukna, Contin. Marianoe, voL iv. p. 216. Vera y'Zuniga, Vida de Carlos, p. Ill

498 DEATH OF MARY, AND ACCESSION OP ELIZABETH. [bOOK XII.

There were, nevertheless, defects in his political character which must con-
siderably abate the admiration due to his extraordmary talents. Charles's
ambition was insatiable ; and, though there seems to be no foundation for
an opinion prevalent in his own age, that he had formed the chimerical project
of cstablishmg a universal monarchy in Europe, it is certain that his desire
of being distinguished as a conqueror involved him in continual wars, which
not only exhausted and oppressed his subjects, but left him little leisure for
giving attention to the interior police and improvement of his kuigdoms, the
great objects of every prince who makes the happiness of his people the end
of his govermnent. Charles at a very early period of life, ha\ang added
the imperial crown to the kingdoms of Spain, and to the hereditary domi-
nions of the houses of Austria and Burgundy, this opened to him such a vast
field of enterprise, and engaged him m schemes so complicated as well as
arduous, that feeling his power to be uneciual to the execution of them, he
had often recourse to low artifices, unbecoming his superior talents, and some-
times ventured on _such_ deviations from integrity as were dishonourable in a
great prince. His insidious and fraudulent policy appeared more conspicu-
ous, and was rendered more odious, by a comparison with the open ana un-
designing character of his contemporaries, Francis I. and Henry VlII. This
difference, though occasioned chiefly by the diversity of their tempers, must be
ascribed, in some degree, to such an opposition in the principles of their poli-
tical conduct, as alFords some excuse for this defect in Charles's behaviour,
though it caimot serve as a justification of it. Francis and Henry seldom
acted but from the impulse of their passions, and rushed headlong towards
the object in view. Charles's measures beingthe result of cool reflectio:
were disposed into a regular system, and carried on upon a concerted pla:
Persons who act in the former mannerj naturally jjursue the end in vie^
without assuming any disguise or displaying much address. Such as hold thi
latter course are apt, in forming as well as in executing their designs, to em.'
ploy such refinements as always lead to artifice in conduct, aud often degem
rate into deceit.

The cii'cumstances transmitted to ns with respect to Charles's private di
portment and character, are fewer and less interesting tlian might have been
expected from the great number of authors who have undertaken to write
an account of his life. These are not the object of this history, which aims
more at representing the great transactions of the reign of Charles V., and
pointing out the manner in which they affected the political state of Europe,
than at delineating his private virtues or defects.

The plenipotentiaries of France, Spain, and England, continued their con-
ferences at Cercamp ; and though each of them, 'with the usual art of nego-
tiators, made at first very high demands in the name of their respective
courts, yet, as they were all equally desirous of pe;ace, they would have
consented reciprocally to such abatements and restrictions of their claims
as must have removed every obstacle to an accommodation. _ The death of
Charles V. Avas a new motive with Philip to hasten the conclusion of a treaty,
as it increased his impatience for returning kito Spain, where there was now
no person greater or more illustrious than himself. But, in spite of the con-
curring wishes of all the parties interested, an event happened which occa-
sioned an unavoidable delay in then- negotiations. About a month after the
opening of the conferences at Cercamp, Mary of England ended her short
and inglorious reign, and Elizabeth, her sister, was immediately proclaimed
queen with universal joy. As the powers of the English plenipoteutiaricd
expired on the death of their mistress, they could not proceed until they re-
ceived a commission and instructions from their new sovereign.

Heray and Philip beheld Elizabeth's elevation to the throne with eciual 6oii-

BOOK Xn.] ELIZABETH AND THE BIVAL PRINCES. 499

citude. As durinff Mary's jealous administration, under the most difficult
circumstances, and in a situation extremely delicate, that princess had con-
ducted herself with prudence and address far exceeding her years, they had
conceived a high idea of her abilities^ and already formed expectations of a
reign very dilierent from that of her sister. Equally sensible of the importance
of gaining her favour, both monarchs set themselves with emulation to court
it, and employed every art in order to insinuate themselves into her confidence.
Each of them had something meritorious with regard to Elizabeth to plead in
his own behalf. Henry had ottered her a retreat m his dommions, if the dread
' )f her sister's violence should force her to fly for safety out of England. Philip,
by his powerful intercession, had prevented Mary from proceeding to the most
fatal extremes against her sister. Each of them endeavoured now to avail
himself of the circumstances in his favour. Henry wrote to Elizabeth, soon
after her accession, with the warmest expressions of regard and friendship.
He represented the war which had unhappily been kindled between their
kingdoms, not as a national quarrel, but as the effect of Mary's blind partiality
to her husband, and fond compliance with all Iiis wishes. He entreated her
to disengage herself from an alliance which had proved so unfortunate to
England, and to consent to a sepjirate peace with him, without mingling her
interests with those of Spain, from which they ought now to be altogether
disjoined. Philip, on the other hand, unwilling to lose his connexion with
England, the importance of w^hich during a rupture \yith Fi-ance he had so
recently experienced, not only vied with Henry in declarations of esteem for
Elizabeth, and in professions of his resolution to cultivate the strictest amity
with her, but, in order to confirm and perpetuate their union, he oifered him-
seK to her in marriage, and undertook to procure a dispensation from the
pope for that purpose.

Elizabeth vreigued the proposals of the two monarchs attentively, and with
that provident discernment of her true interest which was conspicuous in all
her deliberations. She gave some encoui-agement to Hemy's overture of a
separate negotiation, because it opened a channel of correspondence with
France, which she mi^ht find to be of great advantage, if Philip should not
discover sufficient zeal and solicitude for securing to her proper terms in the
joint treaty. But she ventui-ed on this step with the most cautious reserve,
that she might not alarm Philip's suspicious temper, and lose an ally in at-
tempting to gain an enemy.-^ Henry himself, by an unpardonable act of indis-
cretion, prevented her from carrying her intercourse with him to such a
length as might have offended or alienated Philip. At the veiytime when he
was courting Elizabeth's friendship with the greatest assiduity, he yielded
with an inconsiderate facility to the solicitations of the princes of Lorrain.
and allowed his daughter-in-law, the queen of Scots, to assume the title and
IS of queen of England. This ill-timed pretension, the source of many
imities to the unfortunate queen of Scots, extinguished at once all the
)nfidence which might have grown between Henry and Elizabeth, and left in
s place distrust, resentment, and antipathy. Elizabeth soon found that she
lust unite her interests closely with ^hilip's, and expect peace only from
jgotiations carried on in conjunction with him.^*

As she had granted a commission immediately after her accession to the

me plenipotentiaries whom her sister had employed, she now instructed

lem to act in every point in concert with the plenipotentiaries of Spain, and

take no step until they had previously consulted with them." But though

I

-•' Forbes, L p. 4.

'•• Stiype's Annals of the Reformation, i. p. 11. Carte's Hist of England, toL 12.
p. 875. " Forbes, Foil View, i. pp. 37, 40.

2k2

500 CONFEEEXCES AT CERCAMF. [BOCK XII,

she deemed it prudent to assume this appearance of confidence in the Spanish
monarch, she knew precisely how far to carrv it ; and discovered no inchna-
tion to accept of that extraordinary proposal of marriage which Philip had
made to her. The English had expressed so openly then- detestation of her
sister's choice of him, that it would have been higlily imprudent to have ex-
asperated them by renewing that odious alliance. She was too well ac-
quamted with Philip's harsh imi)erious temper to thhik of him for a husband.
Nor could she admit a dispensation from the pope to be sufficient to authorize
her marrying him, without condemning her father's divorce from Catharine
of Aragon, and of acknowledging, of consequence, that her mother's marriage
was null, and her own birth illegitimate. But though she detennmed not to
yield to Philip's addresses, the situation of her affairs rendered it dangerous
to reject them : she returned her answer, therefore, in terms which were
evasive, but so tempered with respect, that though they gave him no reason
to be secure of success, they did not altogether extinguish his hopes.

By this artifice, as well as by the prudence with which she concealed her
sentiments and intentions concenung religion for some time after her ac-
cession, she so far gained upon PhOip, that he warmly espoused her interest
in the conferences which were renewed at Cercamp, and afterwards removed
to Chateau-Cambresis. A definitive treaty, which was to adjust the claims
and pretensions of so many princes, required the examination of such a variety
of mtricate points, and led to such infinite and minute details, as drew out the
negotiations to a great length. But the Constable Montmorency exerted
himself with such indefatigable zeal and industrj^, repaiiing alternately to the
courts of Paris and Brussels, in order to obviate or remove eveiy difiiculty,
that all points in dispute were adjusted at length in such a manner, as to give
entire satisfaction in every particular to Henry and Philip ; and the last hand
was ready to be put to the treaty between them.

The claims of England remained as the only obstacle to retard it. Elizabeth
demanded the restitution of Calais in the most peremptory tone, as an es-
sential condition of her consenting to peace. Henry refused to give up that
important conquest ; and both seemed to have taken their resolution with
unalterable firmness. Philip warmly supported Elizabeth's pretensions to
Calais, not merely from a principle of equity towards the Enghsh nation, that
he might appear to have contributed to their recovering what they had lost
by espoushag his cause, nor solely with a view of soothmg Ehzabeth by this
manitestation of zeal for her interest, but in order to render Prance less for-
midable by securing to her ancient enemy this easy access into the heart of
the kingdom. The earnestness, however, with which he seconded the argu-
ments of the EngKsh plenipotentiaries soon began to relax. During the course
of the negotiation, Elizabeth, who now felt herself firmly seated on her throne,
began to take such open and vigorous measures, not only for overturning all
that her sister had done in favour of popeiy, but for establishing the protes-
tant church on a finn foundation, as convinced Philip that his hopes of a
union with her had been from the beginning vain, and were now desperate.
Ei'om that period his interpositions in her favour became more cold and
formal, flowmg merely from a regard to decormn, or from the consideration
of remote political interests. Elizabeth having reason to expect such an
alteration in his conduct, quickly perceived it. But as nothing would have
been of greater detriment to her people, or more inconsistent with her schemes
of domestic administration, than the continuance of war, she saw the necessity
of submitting to such conditions as the situation of her affairs imposed, and
that she must reckon upon being deserted by an ally who was now united to
her by a veiy feeble tie, if she aid not speedily reduce her demands to what
was moderate and attainable. She accordingly gave new instructions to iier

tre

I

BOOK Xn.l ARTICLES OF PEACE. 501

ambassadors • and Pliilip's plenipotentiaries acting as mediators between the
French and thera,-° an expedient was fallen upon, which, in some degree, jus-
tified EHzabeth's departing from the riffour of her first demand with regard
to Calais. AH lesser articles were settled without much discussion or delay.
Philip, that he might not appear to have abandoned the Endish, insisted
^hat the treaty between Henr^' and Elizabeth should be concluded in form
before that between the French monarch and himself. The one was signed
on the second day of April, the other on the day following.

Tlie treaty of peace between France and England contained no articles of
real importance, but that which respected Calais. It was stipulated, that
the king of France should retain possession of that town, with all its depend-
encies, during eight years ; that, at the expiration of that term, he should
restore it to England ; that, in case of non-performance, he should forfeit five
hundred thousand crowns ; for the payment of which sum, seven or eight
wealthy merchants, who were not his subjects, should grant security ; that
five persons of distinction should be given as hostages until that security
were provided ; that, although the forfeit of five hundred thousand crowns
should be paid, the risrht of Ilngland to Calais should still remain entire, in
the same manner as if the term of eight years were expired ; that the king
and queen of Scotland should be included in the treaty ; that if they or the
Frencli king should violate the peace by any hostile action, Henrj' should be
obliged instantly to restore Calais ; that, on the other hand,_if any breach of
the treaty proceeded from Elizabeth, then Henry and the king and queen of
Scots were absolved from all the engagements which they had come under by
this treaty.

Notwithstanding the studied attention with which so manjr precautions
were taken, it is evident that Henry did not intend the restitution of Calais,
nor is it probable that Ehzabeth expected it. It was hardly possible that she
could maintain, during the course of eight years, such perfect concord b9th
with France and Scotland, as not to afford Henr>' some pretext for alleging
that she had violated the treaty. But, even if that term should elapse with-

t any ground for complaint, Henry might then choose to pav the sum
_„pulatect, and Elizabeth had no method of asserting her right but by force of
arms. However, by throwing tlie articles in the treaty with regard to Calais
into this form. Elizabeth satisfied her subjects of every denomination ; she
gave men of oiscernment a striking proof of her address in palliating what
she could not prevent ; and amused the multitude, to whom the cession of
such an unportant place would have appeared altogether infamous, with a
prospect of recovering in a short time that favourite possession.

The expedient winch Montmorency employed in order to facilitate the

conclusion of peace between France and Spain, was the negotiating two

treaties of marriage, one between Elizabeth, Heuiy's eldest daughter, and

"^hilip, who supplanted his son, the unfortunate Don Carlos, to whom that

rincess had been promised in the former conferences at Cercamp ; the other

tween Margaret, Henrj-'s only sister, and the duke of Savoy. For, how-

er feeble the ties of blood may often be among princes, or how httle soever

ey may regard them when pushed on to act by motives of ambition, they
assume on other occasions the appearance of being so far influenced by these
domestic aftections, as to employ them to justify measures and concessions
w^hich they find to be necessary, but know to be unpolitic or dishonourable.
Such was the use Henr>* made of the two marriages to which he gave his con-
sent. Having secured an honourable establishment for his sister and his
daughter, he, in consideration of these, granted terms both to Philip and

*• Forbes, i. p. o9.

502 PEACE RATIFIED. [BOOK XH.

the duke of Savoy, of which he would not on any other account have ventured
to approve.

The principal articles in the treaty between France and Spain were, that
a sincere and perpetual amity should be established between the t\yo crowns
and their respective allies ; that the two monarchs should labour in concert
to procure the convocation of a general council, in order to check the pro-
gress of heresy, and restore unity and concord to the Christian church ; that
all conquests made by either party, on this side of the Alps, since tlie com-
mencement of the war in one thousand five hundred and fifty-one, should be
mutually restored ; that the duchy of Savoy, the prmcipaHty of Piedmont,
the comitry of Bressy, and all the other territories formerly subject to the
dukes of Savoy, should be restored to Emanuel Philibert, immeaiately after
the celebration of his marriage with ^Margaret of France, the towns of Turin,
Quiers, Pigncrol, Chivaz, and Yillanova excepted, of which Henry should
keep possession until his claims to these places, in right of his grandmother,
should be tried and decided in course of law ; that, as long as Henry retained
these places in his hands, Philip should be at hberty to keep garrisons in the
towns of Vercelli and Asti ; that the French king should immediately evacuate
all the places wliich he held in Tuscany and the Sienese, and renounce all
future pretensions to them ; that he should restore the marquisate of Mont-
ferrat to the duke of Mantua ; that he should receive the Genoese into fav9ur,
and give up to them the towns which he had conquered in the island of Corsica ;
that none of the princes or states to whom these cessions were made, should
call their subjects to account for any part of their conduct while under the
dominion of their enemies, but should bury all past transactions in oblivion.
The pope, the emperor, the kings of Denmark, Sweden, Poland, Portugal, the
king and queen of Scots, and almost every prince and state in Christendom
were comprehended in this pacification, as the allies either of Henry or of
Philip."

Thus, by this famous treaty, peace was re-established in Europe. All the
causes of discord which had so long embroiled the powerful monarchs of France
and Spain, that had transmitted hereditary quarrels and wars from Charles
to Philip, and from Francis to Henry, seemed to be wholly removed or finally
terminated. The French alone complained of the unequal conditions of a
treaty, into which an ambitious ministci' in order to recover his Uberty, and
an artful mistress, that she mi^lit gratii^y her resentment, had seduced their
too easy monarch. They exclaimed loudly against the folly of giving up to
the enemies of France a hundred and eighty-nine fortified places, in the Low
Countries or in Italy, in return for the three "insignificant towTis of St Quentin,
Ham, and Catelet. They considered it as an indelible stain upon the glory of
the nation, to renounce in one day territories so extensive, and so capable of
being defended that the enemy could not have hoped to wrest them out of its
hands, after many years of victory.

But Henry, without regarding the sentiments of his people, or bemg moved
by the remonstrances of his council, ratified the treaty, and executed with great
fidelity whatever he had stipulated to perfonn. The duke of Savoy repaned
with a numerous retinue to Paris, in order to celebrate his marriage with
Henry's sister. The duke of Alva was sent to the same capital at the head of
a splendid embassy, to espouse Elizabeth in the name of his master. They
were received with extraordinary magnificence by the French court. Amidst
the rejoicings and festivities on that occasion, Henry's days were cut short
by a singular and tragical accident. His son, Francis II., a prince under
age, of a weak constitution, and of a mind still more feeble, succeeded him.

2' Recucil des Traites. torn. ii. 287.

BOOK XU.J EUBOFB DUBIMO XKE KEIGN OP CHARLES V. SOS

Soon after, Paul ended his violent and imperious pontificate, at enmity with
all the world, and disgusted even with his own nephews, rhev, nersecutea
by Philip, and deserted by the succeeding pope, whom they had raised bv
their iniluonce to the papal throne, were condemucd to the punishment which
their crimes and ambition had merited, and their death was as infamous as
their lives had been criminal. Thus most of the personages who had long
sustained the principal characters on the great theatre of Europe, disappeared
about the same time. A more knoNvn period of history opens at this era;
other actors enter upon the stage, with different views as well as different
passions ; new contests arose, and new schemes of ambition occupied and dis-
quieted mankind.

Upon reviewing the transactions of any active period in the history of
civilized nations, the changes which are accomplished appear wonderfully
disproportioned to the efforts which have been exerted. Concjuests are never
very extensive or rapid, but among nations whose progress m improvement
is extremely unequal. Wlien Alexander the Great, at the head ot a gallant
people, of simple manners, and formed to war by admirable military institu-
tions, invaded a state sunk in luxury, and enervated by excessive relinement;
when Genchizcan and Tamerlane, with their armies of hardy barbarians,
poured in upon nations, enfeebled by the climate in which they lived, or by
the arts and commerce which they cidtivated, these conquerors, like a ton-ent,
swept everything before them, subduiug kingdoms and provinces in as short
a space of time as was reciuisite to march through them. But when nations
are in a state similar to each other, and keep equal pace in their advances
towards relinement, they are not exposed to the calamity of sudden conquests.
Then* acquisitions of knowledge, their progress in the art of war, their political
sagacity and address, are nearly equal. The fate of states in tliis situation
depends not on a single battle. Their internal resources are many and various.
Is'or are they themselves alone interested in their own safety, or active in their
own defence. Other states interpose, and balance any temporary advantage
which either party may have acquired. After the fiercest and most lengthened
contest, all the rival nations are exhausted, none are conquered. At length
they find it necessary to conclude a peace, which restores to each almost the
same power and the same territories of which they were formerly in pos-
session.

Such was the state of Europe during the reign of Charles V. No prince
was £0 much superior to the rest in power, as to render his efforts ii-resistible,
and his conquests easy. jNo nation had made progress in improvement so
far beyond its neighbours as to have aciiuired a very manifest pre-eminence.
Each state derived some advantage, or was subject to some inconvenience,
from its situation or its climate ; each was distinguished by something pecu-
liar in the genius of its people, or the constitution of its government. But
the advantages possessed oy one state were counterbalanced by circumstances
favourable to others ; and this prevented any from attaining such superiority
as might have been fatal to all. The nations of Eui'ope in that age, as in the
present, were like one great family : there were some features common to all,
which fixed a resemblance; there were certain pecuharities conspicuous in
each, which marked a distmction. But there was not among them that wide
diversity of character and of genius which, in almost every period of history,
hath exalted the Europeans above the inhabitants of the other quarters of the
globe, and seems to have destined the one to rule, and the other to obey.

But though the near resemblance and equality in improvement among the
different nations of Europe, prevented the reign of Ckirles V. from bemg
distinguished by such sudden and extensive conquests as occur in some other
periods of history, yet dui-ing the course of his administration, all the con-

504 PROGRESS OF THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. fBOOK XU.

siderable states in Europe suffered a remarkable change in tlieir political
situation, and felt the influence of events which have not hitherto spent their
force, but still continue to operate in a greater or in a less degree. It was
during his reign, and in consequence of the perpetual efforts to which his
enterprising ambition roused him, that the different kingdoms of Europe ac-
quired internal vigour ; that they discerned the resources of which they were
possessed ; that they came both to feel their own strength, and to know how
to render it formidable to others. It was dui-ing his reign, too, that the dif-
ferent kingdoms of Europe, which in former times seemed frequently to act
as if they had been single and disjointed, became so thoroughly acquainted,
and so intimately connected with each other, _ as to form one great political
system,^ in wliich each took a station, wherein it liath remamed smce that
tmie with less variation than could have been expected after the events of
two active centuries.

The progress, however, and acquisitions of the house of Austria were not
only greater than those of any other power, but more discernible and con-
spicuous. I have already enumerated the extensive territories which de-
scended to Charles Irom liis Austrian, Burgundiau, and Spanish ancestors.-*
To these he himself added the imperial dignity ; and, as rf all this had been
too little, the bounds of the habitable globe seemed to be extended, and a
new world was subjected to his command. Upon his resignation, the Bur-
gundiau provinces, and the Spanish kingdoms with their dependencies both
in the old and new worlds, devolved to Philip. But Charles transmitted his-
dominions to his son in a condition very different from that iu which he him-
self had received them. They were augmented by the accession of new pro-
vinces ; they were habituated to obey an administration which was no less
vigorous than steady ; they were accustomed to expensive and persevering
efforts, which, though necessary in the contests between civilized nations, had
been little known iu Europe before the sixteenth century. The provinces of
Eriesland, Utrecht, and Overyssel, wliich he had acquired by purchase from
their former proprietors, and the duchy of Gueldres, of wliich he made him-
self master, partly by iuice of arms, partly by the arts of negotiation, were
additions of great value to his Burgunaian dominions. Eerdiuand and Isabella
had transmitted to him all the proviuces of Spain, from the bottom of the
Pyrenees to the frontiers of Portugal ; but as he maintained a perpetual peace
with that kingdom, amidst the various efforts of his enterprising ambition,
he made no acquisition of territory in that quarter.

Charles had gained, however, a vast accession of power in tlus part of his
dominions. By his success in the war with the commons of CastUe, he ex-
alted the regal prerogative upon the ruins of the privileges which formerly
belonged to the people. Though he allowed the name of the cortes to remain,
and the formality of holding it to be continued, he reduced its authority and
jurisdiction ahnost to nothing, and modelled it iu such a manner, that it
became rather a junto of the servants of the crowm, than an assembly, of the
representatives of the people. One member of the constitution bemg thus
lopped oft^ it was impossible but that the other must feel the stroke and
sntt'er by it. The suppression of the popular power rendered the aristocratical
less formidable. The grandees, prompted by the warlike spirit of the age, or
allured by the honours which they enjoyed in a court, exhausted their fortune .-;>
in military service, or in attendmg on Uie person of their prince. They did
not dread, perhaps did not observe, the dangerous progress of the rovc-ii au-
thority, which, leaving them the vain distinction of being covered in in-esencG
of their sovereign, stripped them, by degrees, of that real power which they

28 See p. 87.

BOOK XU.] PROGRESS OF THE HOUSE OF AUSTRIA. 505

possessed when they formed one body, and acted in concert with the people.
Charles's success in abolishing the privileges of the commons, and in breaking
the power of the nobles of Castile, encouraged Pliilip to invade the liberties
of Aragon, wliich were still more extensive. The Castilians, accustomed to
subjection themselves, assisted in imposing the yoke on their more happy
and iudencudent neighbours. The will of the sovereign became the supreme
law in all the kingdoms of Spain ; and princes who were not checked in
forming their plans by the jealousy of the people, nor controlled in executing
them by the power of the nobles, could botli aim at great objects, and call
forth the whole strength of the monarchy in order to attain them.

As Charles, by extending the royal preroptive, rendered the monarchs of
Spain masters at home, he added new dignity and power to their crown by
his foreign acquisitions. He secured to Spain the quiet possession of the
kingdom of Naples, which Terdinand had usurped by fraud, and held witli
difficulty. He united the duchy of Milan, one of tne most fertile and po-
pulous Italian provinces, to the Spanish crown, and left his successors, even
without taking their other territories into the account, the most considerable
princes in Italy, wliich had been long the theatre of contention to the great
powers of Europe, and hi which they had struggled with emulation to obtain
the superiority. When the French, in conformity to the treaty of Chateau-
Cambresis, withdrew their forces out of Italy, and finally relinquished all
their schemes of conquest on that side of the Alps, the Spanish domuiions
there rose in unportance, and enabled their kings, as long as the monarchy
retained any degree of vigour, to preserve the chief sway in all the trans-
actions of that country. But whatever accession, either of interior authority
or of foreign dominion, Charles gained for the monarchs of Spain in Europe,
was inconsiderable when compared with his acquisitions in the new wond.
He added there, not provinces, but empires to his cro\vn. He conquered ter-
ritories of such immense extent ; he discovered such inexhaustible veins of
wealth, and opened such boundless prospects of every kind, as must have
roused his successor, and have called him forth to action, though his ambi-
tion had been much less ardent than that of Philip, and must have rendered
him not only enterprising but formidable.

TV' hile the elder oranch of the Austrian family rose to such pre-eminence in
Spain, the younger, of which Eerdinand was the head, grew to be consider-
able in Germany. The ancient hereditary dominions of the house of Austria
in Germany, united to the kingdom of Ilungary and Bohemia, winch Ferdi-
nand had acquired by marriage, fonned a respectable power; and when the
imperial digmty was added to these, Eerdinand possessed territories more ex-
tensive than had belonged to any prince. Charles Y. excepted, who had been
at the head of the empire during several ages. Fortunately for Europe, tlie
disgust which Philip conceived on account of Ferdinand's refusing to relin-
quish the imperial crown in his favour, not only prevented for some time
the separate members of the house of Austria from acting in concert, but
occasioned between them a visible alienation and rivalship. By decrees,
however, rej^ard to the interest of their family extinguished this impolitical
animosity. Ihe confidence which was natural retui-ncd ; the aggrandizing of
the house of Austria became the com.mon object of all their schemes ; tliey
gave and received assistance alternately towards the execution of them ; ana
each derived consideration and importance from the other's success. A family
so great and so aspiring became the general object of jetdousy and terror.
All the power, as well as policy of Europe, were exerted during a century
in order to check and humble it. Nothing can give a more striking idea of
the ascendant which it had acquired than that, after its vigour was spent
with extraorduiary exertions of its strength, after Spain was become only the

506 GROWTH OF TBANCE. [bOOK XII.

shadow of a great name, and its monarchs were sunk into debility and
dotage, the house of Austria still continued to be formidable. The nations
of Europe had so often felt its superior power, and had been so constantly
emi^loyed in guarding against it, that the dread of it became a kind of political
habit, the influence of which remaiaed when the causes which had formed it
ceased to exist.

While the house of Austria went on with such success in enlarging its do-
minions, France made no considerable acquisition of new territory. All its
schemes of conquest in Italy had proved abortive ; it had hitherto obtained
no establishment of consequence in the new world; and, after the con-
tinued and vigorous efibrts of four successive reigns, the confines of the
kingdom were much the same as Louis XI. had left them. But though
France made not such large strides towards domiuion as the house of Austria,
it continued to advance by steps which were more secure, because they were
gradual and less observed. The conquest of Calais put it out of the power of
ihe English to invade Erance but at their utmost peril, and deUvered the
Ereuch from the dread of their ancient enemies, who, previous to that event,
could at any time penetrate into the kingdom by that avenue, and thereby
retard or defeat the execution of their best-concerted enterprises against any
foreign power. The important acquisition of Metz covered that part of their
frontier which formerly was most feeble, and lay most exposed to insult.
Erance, from the time of its obtaining these additional securities against
external invasion, must be deemed the most powerful kingdom in Europe, and
is more fortunately situated than any on the continent, either for conquest
or defence. Erom the confines of Artois to the bottom of the Pjrenees, and
from the British Channel to the frontiers of Savoy and the coast of the
Mediterranean, its territories lie compact and unmingled with those of any
other power. Several of the considerable provinces which had contracted a
spirit of independence by their having been long subject to the great vassals
of the crown, who were often at variance or at war with their master, were
now accustomed to recognise and to obey one sovereign. As they became
members of the same monarchy, they assumed the sentiments of that body
into which they were incorporated, and co-operated with zeal towards pro-
moting its interest and honour. The power and influence wrested from the
nobles were seized by the crown. The people were not admitted to share
in these spoils ; they gained no new privilege ; they acquired no additional
weight in the legislature. It was not for the sake of the people, but in
order to extend their own prerogative, that the monarchs of Erance had
laboured to humble their great vassals. Satisfied with having brought them
under entire subjection to the crown, they discovered no solicitude to free
the people from their ancient dependence on the nobles of whom they held, and
by whom they were often oppressed.

A monarch, at the head of a kingdom thus united at home, and secure from
abroad, was entitled to form great designs, because he felt himself in a con-
dition to execute them. The foreign wars, which had continued vrith little
interruption from the accession of Charles VIIL, had not only cherished and
augmented the martial genius of the nation, but, by inuring the troops during
the course of long service to the fatigues of war, and accustommg them to
obedience, had added the force of discipline to their natural ardoui*. A gallant
and active body of nobles, who considered themselves as idle and useless,
unless when they were in the field ; who were hardly acquainted with any
pastime or exercise but what was military ; and who kiiew no road to power,
or fame, or wealth, but war, would not have suffered their sovereign to remain
long in inaction. The people, little acquainted with the arts ot peace, and
always ready to take arms at the command of their superiors, were accus

Ml

BCXJK XII.] GEOW'TU Oi" JiiANCE. 507

tomed by the expense of loog vars, carried on in distant countries, to bear
impositions, which, however inconsiderable thej^ may seem if estimated by the
exorbitant rate of modern exactions, appear immense when compared with
the sums levied in France, or in any other country of Europe, previous to
the reign of Louis XI. As all the members of which the state was com-
posed were thus impatient for action, and capable of great efforts, the
schemes and operations of Erance must have been no less formidable to
Europe than tliose of Spain. The superior advantages of its situation, the
contiguity and compactness of its territories, together with the peculiar
state of its political constitution at that juncture, must have rendered its
enterprises stillmore akrrauig tuid more decisive. The kin^ possessed such a
dcirrec of power as gave him I lie entire command of his subiects ; the people
were strangers to those occupations and habits of life which render men
avei*se to war, or nnfit for it ; and the nobles, though reduced to the subordi-
nation necessary in a regular government, still retained the high undaunted
spirit wliich was the ellect of their ancient independence. The \-igour of the
feudal times remained ; their anarchy was at an end ; and the kings of France
could avail themselves of the martial ardour which that singular institution
had kindled or kept alive, without being exposed to the dangers or incon-
veniences which are inseparable from it when in entire force,

A kingdom in such a state is, perhaps, capable of greatei military efforts
than at any other period in its progi-ess. But how formidable or how fatal
soever to the other nations of Europe the power of such a monarchy might
have been, the civil wars wliich broke out in France saved them at that junc-
tui'c from feeling its effects. These wars, of which religion was the pretext,
and ambition the cause, wherein great abilities were displayed by the leaders
of the different factions, and little conduct or firmness was manifested by
the crown under a succession of weak princes, kept France occupied and
embroiled for half a century. During these commotions the internal strength
of the kingdom was much wasted, and such a spirit of anarchy was spread
among the nobles, to whom rebellion was familiar, and the restraint of laws
imknown, that a considerable interval became requisite, not only for recrait-
ing the internal vigour of the nation, but for re-establishing the authority of
the prince ; so that it was long before France could turn her whole attention
towards foreign transactions, or act with her proper force in foreign wars. It
was long before she rose to that ascendant m Europe which she has main-
tained since the administration of Cardmal Richelieu, and which the situation
Avell as extent of the kingdom, the nature of her government, together with
e chai-acter of her people, entitle her to maintain.
, Wliile the kingdoms on the continent grew into power and consequence.
England likewise made considerable progress towards regular govemaeut ana
interior strength. Henry YilL, probably without intention, and certahily
without anv consistent plan, of which his nature was incapable, pursued tlie
sciieme of depressing the nobility, which the policy of liis father, Henry YIL,
nad begun. The pride and caprice of his temper led him to employ chiefly
ney; men in the {idministration of affairs, because he found them most obse-

uious or least scrupulous ; and he not only conferred on them sucli plenitude

f power, but exalted them to such pre-eminence in dismity, as mortified and
degraded the ancient nobility. By the alienation or sale of the church lauds,
which were dissipated with a profusion not inferior to the rapaciousness
with which they had been seized, as well as by the privilege granted to the
^-cient landholders of selHng their estates, or disposing of them by will, an

maense projpertyj formerly locked up, was brought into circulation. Tliis

§ut the spirit of industry and commerce in motion, and gave it some consi-
erable degree of vigour. The road to power and to opulence became open to

^^nnci(
.^^prmn

508 rOEEIGN POLICY OF ENGLAND. [bOOK XII.

persons of every condition. _A sudden and excessive flow of wealth from the
West Indies proved fatal to industry in Spain ; a moderate accession in Eng-
land to the sum in circulation gave life to commerce, awakened the ingenuity
of the nation, and excited it to useful enterprise. In Trance, what the
nobles lost the crown gained. In England, the commons were gainers as
well as the king. Power and influence accompanied, of course, the property
which they acquired. They rose to consideration among their feUow-subjects ;
they began to feel their OM'n importance ; and, extending their influence in
the legislative body gradually, and often when neither they themselves nor
others foresaw all the effects of their claims and pretensions,J/hey at last at-
tained that high authority to which the British constitution Is indebted for
the existence, and must owe the preservation, of its liberty. At the same
time that the English constitution advanced towards perfection, several cir-
cumstances brought on a change in the ancient system with respect to foreign
powers, and introduced another more beneficial to the nation. As soon as
Henry disclaimed the supremacy of the papal see, and broke off all con-
nexion with the papal court, considerable sums were saved to the nation, of
which it had been annually drained by remittances to Kome for dispensations
and indulgences, by the expense of pilgrimages into foreign countries,-^ or
by payment of annates, first-fruits, and a thousand other taxes, which that
artful and rapacious court levied on the credulity of mankind. The exercise
of a jurisdiction different from that of the civil power, and claiming not only
to be independent of it, but superior to it, a wild solecism in government,
apt not only to perplex and disquiet weak minds, but tending directly to dis-
turb society, was finally abolished. Government became more simple as weU
as more respectable, when no rank or character exempted any person from
being amenable to the same courts as other subjects, from being tried by the
same judges, and from being acquitted or condemned by the same laws.

By the loss of Calais the English were excluded from the continent. All
schemes for invading Erance became, of course, as chimerical as they had
formerly been pernicious. The views of the English were confined, first by
necessity, and afterwards from choice, within their own island. The rage for
conquest which had possessed the nation during many centuries, and \vasted
its strength in perpetual and fruitless wars, ceased at length. Those active
spirits which had known and followed no profession but war, sought for
occupation in the arts of peace, and their country was benefited as much by
the one as it had suffered by the other. The nation, which had been ex-
hausted by frequent expeditions to the continent, recruited its numbers, and
acquired new strength ; and when roused by any extraordinary exigency to
take ixirt in foreign operations, the vigour of its efforts was propoi-tionally
groat, because they were only occasional and of short continuance.

The same principle which had led England to adopt this new s;^stem with
regard to the powers on the continent, occasioned a change in its plan of
conduct with respect to Scotland, the only foreign state with which, on ac-
count of its situation in the same island, the English had such a close con-
nexion as demanded their perpetual attention. Instead of prosecuting the
ancient scheme of conquering that kingdom, which the nature of the country,
defended by a brave and hardy people, rendered dangerous, if not impracti-
cable, it appeared more ehgible to endeavour at obtaining such influence in

29 The loss which the nation sustained by most of these articles is obvious, and must
have been great. Even that by pilgrimages was not inconsiderable. In the year 1428,
licence was obtained by no fewer than 916 persons to visit the shrine of St. James of
Compostello in Spain. Rymer, vol. x. p. . . In 1434, the number of pilgrims to thu
same place was 2,460. Ibid. p. . . In 1445, they were 2,100, vol. ix. p. . .

BOOK Xn.] THE REPOEMATION. 609

Scotland as might exempt England from any danger or disquiet from that
quarter. The national poverty of the Scots, together with the violence and
animosity of their factions, rendered the execution of this plan easy to a
people far superior to them in wealth. The leading men of greatest power
and popularity were gained ; the ministers and favourites of tne crown were
corrupted ; and sach absolute direction of the Scottish councils was acquired
as rendered the operations of the one kingdom dependent, in a great measure,
on the sovereign of the other. Such perfect external security, added to the
interior advantages which England now possessed, must soon have raised it
to new consideration and importance ; tne long reign of Elizabeth, equally
conspicuous for wisdom, for steadiness, and for vigour, accelerated its pro-
gi-ess, and carried it with greater rapidity towards that elevated station
which it hath since held among the powers of Europe.

During the period in which the political state of tne great kingdoms under-
went such changes, revolutions of considerable importance happened in that
of the secondaiy or inferior powers. Those in the papal court are most ob-
vious, and of most extensive consequence.

In the preliminary book, I have mentioned the rise of that spiritual juris-
diction, which the popes claim as vicars of Jesus Christ, and have traced the
progress of that authority which they possess as temporal princes.^** Previous
to tlie reign of Charles V. there was nothing that tended to circumscribe or
to moderate their authority but science and philosophy, which began to revive
and to be cultivated. The progress of these, however, was still inconsider-
able ; they always operate slowly ; and it is long before their influence reaches
the people, or can produce any sensible eiFect upon them. They may perhaps
gradually, and in a long course of years, undermine and shake an established
system of false religion, but there is no instance of their having overturned
one. The battery is too feeble to demolish those fabrics which superstition
raises on deep foundations, and can strengthen with the most consummate art.

Luther had attacked the papal supremacy with other weapons, and with
an impetuosity more formidable. The time and manner of m| attack con-
curred with a multitude of circumstances, which have been explahied, in
giving him immediate success. The charm which had bound mankind for so
many ages was broken at once. The human mind, which had continued long
as tame and passive as if it had been formed to believe whatever was taught,
and to bear whatever was imposed, roused of a sudden, and became inquisi-
tive, mutinous, and disdainful of the yoke to which it had hitherto submitted.
That wonderful ferment and agitation of mind which, at this distance of time,
appears unaccountable, or is condemned as extravagant, was so general, that
it must have been excited by causes which were natural and of powert'ul effi-
cacy. The kingdoms of Denmark, Sweden, England, and Scotland, and almost
one half of Germany, threw oif their allegiance to the pope, aboUshed his
jurisdiction within their territories, and ^^ave the sanction of law to modes of
discipline and systems of doctrine which were not only independent of his
power, but hostile to it. Nor was the spirit of innovation confined to those
countries which openly revolted from the pope; it spread through all Europe,
r and broke out in eveiy part of it, vrith various degrees of violence. It pene-
[trated early into Erance, and made a quick progress there. In that kingdom
the number of converts to the opinions of the reformers was so great, their
zeal so euter])i'izing, and the abihties of their leaders so distmguished, that
they soon ventured to contend for superiority with the estabUshed church,
and were sometimes on the point of obtaining it. In all the provinces oi
Germany which continued to acknowledge the papal supremacy, as well aa m

»« See p. 55.

510 POLICY or THE EOMAN PONTIFFS [BOOK HI.

the Low Countries, the protestant doctrines were secretly taught, and had
gained so many proselytes, that the^ were ripe for revolt, and were restrained
merely by the dread of their rulers from imitating the example of their neigh-
bours, and asserting their independence. Even in Spain and Italy, symptoms
of the same disposition to shake off the yoke appeared. The pretensions of
the pope to inlallible knowledge and supreme power were treated by many
persons of eminent learning and abilities with such scorn, or attacked witn
such vehemence, that the most vigilant attention of the civil magistrate, the
highest strams of pontifical authority, and all the rigour of inquisitorial juris-
diction, were requisite to check and extinguish it.

The defection of so many opulent and powerful kiuj^doms from the papal
see, was a fatal blow to its grandeur and power. It abridged the dominions
of the popes in extent ; it dinicnibhed their revenues, and left them fewer re-
wards to bestow on the ecclesiastics of various denominations, attached to
them by vows of obedience as well as by ties of interest, and whom they em-
ployed as instruments to establish or support their usurpations in every part
of Europe. The countries, too, which now disclaimed their authority, were
those which formerly had been most devoted to it. The empire of super-
stition diliers from every other species of dominion; its power is often greatest
and most implicitly obeyed, in the provinces most remote from the seat of
government ; while such as are situated nearer to that are more apt to discern
the artifices by which it is upheld, or the impostures on which it is founded.
The personal frailties or vices of the popes, the errors as well as corruption of
their administration, the ambition, venjUJty, and deceit which reigned in their
courts, fell immediately under the observation of the Italians, and could not
fail of diminishing that respect which begets submission. But in Germany,
England, and the more remote parts of Europe, these were either altogether
unknown, or, being only known by report, made a slighter impression.
Veneration for the papal dignity increasai accordingly in these countries iii
proportion to their distance from Rome ; and that veneration, added to their
gross ignorance, rendered them equally credulous and passive. In tracing the
progress of the papal domination, the boldest and most successful instances
of encroachment are to be found in Germany and other countries distant from
Italy. In these its impositions were heaviest, and its exactions the most ra-
pacious ; so that, in estimating the diminution of power which the court of
Rome suffered in consequence of the reformation, not only the number but
the character of the people who revolted, not only the great extent of terri-
tory, but the extraorclmary obsequiousness of the subjects which it lost, must
be taken into the account.

Nor was it only by this defection of so many kingdoms and states which the
reformation occasioned, that it contributed to diminish the power of the
Roman pontiffs. It obliged them to adopt a different system of conduct to-
wards the nations which still continued to recognise their jurisdiction, and to
govern them by new maxims and with a milder spirit. _ The reformation
taught them, by a fatal example, what they seem not before to have appre-
hended, that the credulity and patience of mankind might be overbui'dened
and exhausted. They became afraid of venturing upon any such exertion of
their authority as might alai-m or exasperate thek subjects, and excite them
to a new revolt. They saw a rival church established iu many countries of
Europe, the members of which were on the watch to observe any errors in
their administration, and eager to expose them. They were sensible that the
opinions, adverse to their power and usurpations, were not adopted by their
enemies alone, but had spread even among the people who still adhered to
them. Upon all these accounts, it was no longer possible to lead or govern
their flock in the same mamier as in those diirk and quiet ages when faith was

BOOK XII.l SI^•C£ THE EErOEJIATION. I»"ll

implicit, when submission was unreserved, and all tamely followed and obeyed
the voice of their i):istor. i'rom tlie era of the refonnatiou, the popes have
ruled rather bv address and management than by authorit^^ Ihouiih the
style of tlieir decrees be still the same, the ett'ect of them is very dilierent.
Tliose bulls aud interdicts wliich, before tiie reformation, made the greatest
princes tremble, have, since that period, been disregai-ded or despised by the
most inconsiderable. Those bold decisions and acts of jurisdiction which,
during many ages, not only passed uncensured, but were revered as the awards
of a sacred tribunal, would, since Luther's appearance, be treated by one part
of Europe as the effect of folly or arrogance, and be detested by the other as
impious and unjust. The popes, in their administration, have been obliged
not only to accommodate themselves to the notions of their adherents, but to
pay some regard to the prejudices of their enemies. They seldom venture to
claim new powers, or even to insist obstinately on their ancient prerogatives,
lest thev should irritate the former ; they carefully avoid every measure that
may either excite the indig-nation or draw on them the derision of the latter.
The policy of the court of Rome hjis become as cautious, circumspect, and
thnid, as it was once adventurous and violent ; and though their pretensions
to infallibility, on wliich all their authority is founded, does not allow them to
renounce any jurisdiction which they have at any tmie claimed or exercised,
they find it 'expedient to sufler many of their prerogatives to lie dormant,
and not to expose themselves to the risk of losing that remamder of power
which they still enjoy, by ill-tuned attempts towards reviving obsolete pre-
tensions. Before the sixteenth century, the popes were the movers aud di-
rectoi*s in every considerable enterprise ; they were at the head of every great
alliance; and beuig considered as arbiters in the affairs of Christendom, the
court of Rome was the centre of political negotiation and intrigue. Suice that
time, the greatest operations in Europe have been carried on independent of
them ; thej have sunk almost to a level with the other petty princes of Italy :
they contmue to claim, though they dare not exercise, the same spiritual
jurisdiction, but hardly retain any shadow of the temporal power which they
anciently possessed.

But how fatal soever the reformation may have been to the power of
the popes, it has contributed to improve the church of Rome both in science
and ill morals. The desire of equalling the reformers in those talents wliich
had procured them respect; the necessity of acquiring the knowledge re-

Iquisite for defending their own tenets, or refuting the arguments of their
opponents, together with the emulation natural between two rival ehui'ches.
engaged the Roman catholic clergy to apply themselves to the study of useful
science, which they cultivated with such assiduity and success, that they have
gradually become as eminent ui literature, as they were in some periods in-
famous for ignorance. The same principle occasioned a change no less con-
siderable in the morals of the Romish clergy. Various causes, which have
formerly been enumerated, had concui-red in introducm^ great irregularity
and even dissolution of maimers, among the popish clergy. Luther and
his adherents began their attack on the church with such vehement invectives
against these, that, in order to remove t he scjmdal, and silence their declama-
, tions, greater decency of conduct became necessary. The refoimcrs themselves

twere so eminent not only for the purity, but eveia austerity of their maimers,
and had acquired such reputation among the people on that account, that the
Roman catholic clergy must have soon lost all credit, if they had not endea-
voured to conform in some measure to their standard. They knew that all
their actions fell under the severe inspection of the protestanfs, whom
.enniity and emulation prompted to observe every vice, or even impropriety in
tI^:ir conduct; to censure them without indulgence, and to expooC them

812 STATE OF VENICE. [BOOK XII.

■without mercy. This rendered them, of com-se, not only cautious to avoid
such enormities as might give offence, but studious to acquire the virtues
which might merit praise. In Spain and Portugal, where the tyrannical juris-
diction of the inquisition crushed the protestant faith as soon as it appeared,
the spirit of popery continues invariable ; science has made small progress,
and the character of ecclesiastics had undergone little change. But in those
countries where the members of the two churches have mingled freely
with each other, or have carried on any considerable intercourse, either com-
mercial or literary, an extraordinary alteration in the ideas, as well as in the
morals, of the popish ecclesiastics, is manifest. In France, the manners of
the dignitaries and secular clergy have become decent and exemplary in a
high degree. Many of them have been distinguished for all the accomplish-
ments and virtues which can adorn their profession ; and differ greatly from
their predecessors before the reformation, both in then: maxims and in their
conduct.

Nor has the influence of tlie reformation been felt only by the inferior
members of the Roman catholic church ; it has extended to the see of Rome,
to the sovereign pontiffs themselves. Yiolations of decorum, and even tres-
passes against morality, which passed without censure in those ages, when
neither the power of the popes, nor the veneration of the people for their cha-
racter, had any bounds ; when there was no hostile eye to observe the errors in
their conduct, and no adversaries zealous to inveigh against them ; would be
liable now to the severest animadversion, and excite general indignation or
horror. Instead of rivalling the courts of temporal princes in gaiety, and
surpassing them in licentiousness, the popes have studied to assume man-
ners more severe and more suitable to their ecclesiastical character. The
chair of St. Peter hath not been polluted, during two centuries, by any
pontiff that resembled iUexander V I., or several of his predecessors, who
were a disgrace to religion and to human nature. Tlu-oughout this long suc-
cession of popes, a wonderful decorum of conduct, compared with that of
preceding ages, is observable. Many of them, especially among the pontiffs of
the present century, have been conspicuous for all the virtues becoming
their high station ; and by their humanity, their love of literature, and their
moderation, have made some atonement to mankmd for the crimes of their
predecessors. Thus the beneficial influences_ of the reformation have been
more extensive than they appear on a superficial view; and this great division
in the Christian church hath contributed, in some measure, to increase
purity of manners, to diffuse science, and to inspire humanity. History
recites such a number of shocking events, occasioned by religious dissen-
sions, that it must afford peculiar satisfaction to trace any one salutary or
beneficial effect to that source from which so many fatal calamities have flowed.

The republic of Venice, which, at the beginning of the sixteenth centuix
had appeared so formidable, that almost all the potentates of Europe united
in a confederacy for its destruction, declined gradually from its ancient
power and splendour. The Venetians not only lost a great part of their
territory in the war excited by the league of Cambray, but the revenues as
well as vigour of the state were exhausted by their extraordmary and long-
continued efforts in their own defence ; and that commerce by which they had
acquired their wealth and power began to decay, without any hopes of its re-
viving. AH the fatal consequences to their republic, which the sagacity of
the Venetian senate foresaw on the first discovery of a passage to the East
Indies by the Cape of Good Hope, actually took place. Their endeavours to
prevent the Portuguese from establishing themselves in the East Indies, not
only by exciting the soldans of Egypt, and the Ottoman monarchs, to turn
their arms against such dangerous intruders, but by affording secret aid to tho

BOOK XII.] TUSCANY AND THE DUKES OF SAVOY. 613

infidels in order to insure their success," proved ineffectual. The activity
and valour of the Portuguese surmounted every obstacle, and obtained such
a firni footing in that fertile country, as secured to tiieni large possessions,
together with an influence still more extensive. Lisbon, instead of Venice,
became the staple for the precious commodities of the East. The Vene-
tians, after havnig possessed for many years the monopoly of that beneficial
commerce, had the mortification to be excluded from almost any share in it.
The discoveries of the Spaniards in the western world, proved no less fatal
to inferior branches of their commerce. The original defects which weie
formerly pointed out in the constitution of the Venetian republic still con-
tinued, and the disadvantages with wliich it undertook any great enterprise
increased rather than diminished. The sources from which it derived its
extniordinaiy riches and power being dried up, the interior vigour of the state
declined, and, of course, its external operations became less formidable.
Long before the middle of the sixteenth century, Venice ceased to be one
of the principal powers in Europe, and dwmdled into a secondary and
subaltern state. But as the senate had the address to conceal the diminution
of its power, under the veil of moderation and caution ; as it made no rash
effort that could discover its weakness ; as the sjinptoms of political decay
in states are not soon observed, and are seldom so apparent to their neigh-
bours as to occasion any sudden alteration in their conduct towards them,
Venice continued long to be considered and respected. She was treated noli
according to her present condition, but according to the rank which she had
formerly held. Charles V., as well as the kings of Erance, his rivals, courted
her assistance with emulation and solicitude in all their enterprises. Even
down to the close of the century, Venice remained not only an object of at-
tention, but a considerable seat of -political negotiation and intrigue.

That authority which the first Cosmo de' Medici, and Lawrence, his grand-
son, had acquired in the republic of Florence, by their beneficence and abili-
ties, inspired their descendants with the ambition of usurping the sovereignty
in their country, and paved their way towanls it. [1530.] Charles V. placed
Alexander de' Medici at the head of the republic, and to the natural interest
and power of the family added the weight as well as credit of the imperial
protection. Of these his successor Cosmo, sornamed the Great, availedi
himself; and establishing his supreme authority on the ruins of the ancient
republican constitution, he transmitted that, together with the title of Grand,
Duke of Tuscany, to his descendants. Their dominions were composed of
the territories which had belonged to the thi-ec commonwealths of Florence,.
Pisa, and Siena, and formed one of the most respectable of the Italian states.

The dukes of Savoy, during the former part of the sixteenth century, pos-
sessed territories which were not considerable either for extent or value ; and.
0 French having seized the greater part of them, obliged the reigning duke-.

retire for safety to the strong fortress of Nice, where he shut himself uj>
for several years, while his son, the prince of Piedmont, tried to better his.
fortune, by serving as an adventurer in the armies of Spain. The peace of
Chatcau-Cambresis restored to him his paternal dominions. As these are
environed on every hand by powerful neighboiu's, all whose motions the
dukes of Savoy must observe with the greatest attention, in order not only

guard against the danger of being surprised and overpowered, but that
ey may choose their side with diseeniment in those quarrels wherein it is

possible for them to avoid taking part, this peculiarity of their situation

ms to have had no inconsiderable idluence on their character. By rousing

m to perpetual attention, by keeping their ingenuity always on the stretcl^

'^ Freher. Script. Rer. German, vol. ii. p. 629s
21.

^4 THE LOW COUNTRIES AND THE NORTHERN POWERS. [bOOK XII.

and engaging tiieni in almost continual action, it hath formed a race of
princes more sagacious in discovering their true interests, more decisive in
their resolutions, and more dexterous in availing themselves of every occur-
rence which presented itself, than any, i)erhaps, that can be singled out in the
history of Europe. By gradual acquisitions the dukes of Savoy have added
to their territories, as well as to their own importance ; and aspiring at
length to regal dignity, which they obtained about half a century ago, by the
title of kings of Sardinia, they hold now no inconsiderable raiik among the
monarchs of Europe.

The territories which form the republic of the United Netherlands were
lost, duriug the first part of the sixteenth century, among the numerous
provinces subject to the house of Austria ; and were then so inconsiderable,
that hardly one opportunity of mentioning them hath occurred in all the busy
period of this history. But soon after the peace of Chateau-Cambresis, the
violent and bigoted maxiois of Pliilip's government bemg carried iuto ex-
ecution with um-elenting rigour by the duke of Alva, exasperated the people
of the Low Countries to such a degree, that they threw off the Spanish yoke,
and asserted their ancient hberties and laws. These they defended Avith a
persevering valour, which gave employment to the arms of Spain during half
a century, exhausted the vigoui-, ruined the reputation of that monarchy,
and at last constrained their ancient masters to recognise and to treat with
them as a free and independent state. This state, founded on liberty, and
reared by industry and economy, grew into great reputation even while
struggHng for its existence. But when peace and security allowed it to en-
large its views, and to extend its commerce, it rose to be one of the most re-
spectable as well as enterprising powers in Europe.

The transactions of the kingdoms in the north of Europe have been
seldom attended to in the course of tMs history.

Russia remained buried in that barbarism and obscurity, from which it
was called about the beginning of the present century, by the creative genius
of Peter the Great, who made his country known and formidable to the rest of
Europe.

In Denmark and Sweden, during the reign of Charles V., great revolutions
happened in their constitutions, civil as well as ecclesiastical. In the former
kingdom, a tyrant being degraded from the throne, and expelled the country,
a new prince was called by the voice of the people to assume the reins of
government. In the latter a fierce people, roused to arms by injuries and
oppression, shook off the Danish yoke, and conferred the regal dignity on its
deliverer Gustavus Ericson, who had all the virtues of a hero and of a patriot.
Denmark, exhausted by foreign wars, or weakened by the dissensions between
the king and the nobles, became incapable of such efforts as were requisite in
order to recover the ascendant whicn it had long possessed in the north of
Europe. Sweden, as soon as it was freed from the dominion of strangers^
began to recruit its strength, and acquired in a short time such internal
vigour, that it became the first kingdom in the north. Early in the subse-
quent century it rose to such a high rank among the powers of Europe, that
it had the chief merit in forming, as well as conducting, that powerfuTleague,
which protected not only the protestant religion, but the liberties of Ger-
many, against the bigotry and ambition of the house of Austria.

THE LIFE

OF

CHARLES THE FIFTH

AFTER HIS ABDICATION.

€i.S

THE LIFE

OF

CHARLES THE FIFTH

AETER HTS ABDICATION.

In tlie Advertisement, I have noticed the existence of snndij documents,
in the Archives of Simancas, which give an entirely new complexion to the life
of Charles the Eifth after his abdication. The manner in which these docu-
ments have been brought before the public forms a curious chapter in literary
history ; and the account which I have given of it at the close of the Eirst
Book of the History of Philip the Second may not be unacceptable to the
reader.

" Wliile the manuscripts of Simancas were hidden from the world, a learned
keeper of the archives, Don Thomas Gonzalez, discontented with the unworthy
view which had been given of the latter days of Charles the Eifth, had pro-
fited by the materials which lay around him, to exhibit his life at luste m a
new and more authentic light. To the volume which he compiled for this
purpose, he gave the title of * Retiro, Estancia y Muerte del Emperador Carlos
Quinto en el Monasterio de Yuste.' _ The work, the principal value of which
consists in the copious extracts vdth which it is furnished from the corre-
spondence of Charles and his household, was suffered by the author to re-
main in manuscript ; and, at his death, it passed into the hands of his brother,
who prepared a summary of its contents, and endeavoured to dispose of the
volume at a price so exorbitant that it remained for many years without a
purchaser. _ It was finally bought by the French government at a greatly
reduced price — four thousand francs. It mav seem strange that it should have
brought even this sum, since the time of the sale was that in which the new
arrangements were made for giving admission to the archives that contained
the original documents on which tne Gonzalez MS. was founded. The work
thus bought by^ the Erench government was transferred to the Archives des
Affaires Etrangeres, then imder the direction of M. Mignet, The manuscript
could not be in better hands than in those of a scholar who has so success-
fully carried the torch of criticism into some of the darkest passages of Spanish
history. His occupations, however, took him in another direction; and for
eight years the Gonzalez MS. remained as completely hidden from the world
in the Parisian archives as it had been in those of Simancas. When, at length,
it was applied to the historical uses for which it had been intended, it was

518 MR. STIRLING AND THE GONZALEZ MANUSCRIPT.

through the agency, not of a Erench, but of a British writer. This was Mr.
Stirling, the author of the ' Annals of the Artists of Spain'— a work honour-
able to its author for the familiarity it shows, not only with the state of the
arts in that country, but also with its literature.

" Mr. Stirling, during a visit to the Peninsula, in 1849, made a pilgrimage
to Yuste ; and the traditions and hoary reminiscences gathered round the spot
left such an impression on the traveller's mind, that, on his return to England,
he made them the subject of two elaborate papers in Frazer's Magazine, in
the numbers for April and May, 1851. Although these spirited essays rested
wholly on printed works, which had long been accessible to the scholar, they
were found to contain many new and highly interesting details ; showing how
superficially Mr, Stirling's predecessors had examined the records of the em-
peror's residence at Yuste. Still, m his account the author had omitted the
most important feature of Charles's monastic life, — the influence which he
exercised on the admmistration of the kingdom. This was to be gathered
from the manuscripts of Simancas.

" Mr. Stirling, who, through that inexhaustible repository, the Handbook
of Spain, had become acc^uainted with the existence of the Gonzalez MS.,
was, at the time of writing his essays, ignorant of its fate. On learning,
afterwards, where it was to be found, he visited Paris, and, having obtained
access to the volume, so far profited by its c( tntents as to make them the
basis of a separate work, which he entitled ' The Cloister Life of Charles
the Fifth.' It soon attracted the attention of scholars, both at home and
abroad, went through several editions, and was received, in short, with an
avidity which showed both the importance attached to the developments the
author had made, and the attractive form in which he had presented them to
the reader.

" The Parisian scholars were now stimulated to turn to account the treasure
which had remained so long neglected on their shelves. In 1854, less than
two years after the appearance of Mr. Stirling's book, _M. Aniedee Pichot
published his ' CJironiques de Charles-Quint,' a work which, far from being
confined to the latter days of the emperor, covers the whole range of his bio-
graphy, presenting a large amount of information in regard to his personal
habits, as well as to the interior organization of his government, and the
pohcy which directed it. The whole is enriched, moreover, by a multitude of
historical incidents, that may be regarded rather as subsidiary than essential
to the conduct of the narrative, which is enlivened by much ing-enious cri-
ticism on the state of mamiers, arts, and moral culture of the period.

"It was not long after the appearance of this work that M. Gachard, whom
I have elsewhere noticed as having been commissioned by the Belgian govern-
ment to make extensive researches in the_ Archives of Simancas, gave to the
public some of the fruits of his labours, in the first volume of his ' Retraite
et Mort de Charles-Quints It is devoted to the letters of the emperor and his
household, which form the staple of the Gonzalez MS. ; thus placing at the
disposition of the future biographer of Charles the original materials with
which to construct the history of his latter days.

"Lastly came the work, long expected, of M. Mignet, ' Charles-Qui?it ; son
Abdication, son Sejour, et sa Mort au Monastere de Yuste' It was the repro-
duction, in a more extended and elaborate form, of a series of papers, the first
of which appeared shortly after the publication of Mr. Stirlmg's book. In
this work, the French author takes the clear and comprehensive view of his
subject so characteristic of his genius. The difiicult and debatable points he
discusses with acuteness and precision; and the whole story of Charles's
monastic life he presents in so luminous an aspect to the reader, as leaves
notliing further to be desired.

MR. STIRIJXG A^'D THE GONZALEZ MANUSCRIPT. 519

" The critic may take some interest in comparing the different manners in
which the several writers hajve dealt with the subject, each according to his
own taste, or the bent of his genius. Thus, through Stirling's more free and
familiar narrative there runs a pleasant vein of humour, with piquancy enough
to give it a relish, showing the author's sensibility to trie ludicrous, for which
Charles's stingy habits, and excessive love of gooa cheer, even in the convent,
furnish frequent occasion.

" Quite a different conception is formed by Mignet of the emperor's cha-
racter, which he has cast in the trae heroic mould, not dei^ing to recomise
a single defect, however slidit, which may at all impair the majesty of the
proportions, f'inally, Amedee Pichot, instead of the classical, may be said
to iiave conformed to the romantic school, in the arrangement of his subject,
indulging in various picturesque episodes, which he has, however, combined
so successfully with tne main Dody of the narrative as not to impair the unity
of interest.

" Whatever may be thought of the comparative merits of these eminent
^\Titers in the execution of their task, the effect of their labours has un-
doubtedly been to make that the plainest which was before the most obscure
portion of tlie history of Charles the Fifth."

I may add to this account, that, since the publication of the History of
Philip the Second, M. Gachard has given to the world his second volume of
the "^ Retraite et Mort de Charles-Quint" containing some additional informa-
tion of interest in regard to Charles's convent life, by which I have not failed
to profit.

520 HISTORY AND DESCRIPTION 0? [bOOK I

BOOK 1.

The Convent of Yuste — Charles's Departure from the Netherlands — His Voyage to
* Spain — His Progress through the Country — Reception at Valladolid — Journey to Ja-

randilla — His Kesidence there — Discontent of his Household — His Visitors — Pernicious

Indulgeuce of his Appetite — His Removal to Yuste.

The emperor Charles the Pifth had conceived the design of resigning his
sceptre, and withdrawing from the world, many years before he put it into
execution. This appears from a conversation wliich he had soon after his ab-
dication with the Portuguese envoy, Lorenzo Pires de Tavora, in wliich the
emperor remarked, that soon after the capture of Tunis, in 1535, he had formed
the purpose of abdicating his crown. This was in the prime of Hfe, in the
meridian of his glory, when his arms had just been crowned with a brilliant
victory. The despondency into which he was thrown by the deatli of liis
beautiful and beloved consort, Isabella of Portugal, some five years later,
heightened still further liis disgust with the world. The tender age of his
son, Pliilii), induced him to defer the immediate execution of his plan, wliich
was still further postponed by_ the weighty affairs that pressed on him, and
especially by the religious wars in which he was involved m German)^. When,
at length, the hour of his abdication did arrive, it found him broken in health,
and with spirits greatly depressed by the series of reverses wliich had gathered
like dark clouds round the evening of his reign. He lamented to the Portu-

fuese ambassador that he had not earlier taken this step, when he could have
one it so much more gracefully, while his fame was not yet tarnished by
defeat.

The place selected by Charles for his retreat w^as the Jeronymite monastery
of Yuste, in Spain, situated at the base of a mountain ridge that traverses
the north of Estremadura. The order of St. Jerome is Spanish in its origin,
which dates as far back as the latter part of the fourteenth century. Humble
in its beginning, it soon rose, under the patronage of princes, and the bene-
factions of the pious, to high consideration. Its domains extended over every
part of the Peninsula, and its convents, occupjdng the most picturesque
situations, sometimes assumed the aspect, and almost the dimensions, of cas-
tellated towns. The growing reputation of the brotherhood kept pace with
the prosperous condition of their fortunes. If in point of scholarship they
could not boast such names as some other fraternities, they might challenge
a comparison with any for the decorum, and even sanctity, of their lives, for
the pomp and splendour of their religious services, and for the munificence
with which they dispensed their charities to the poor. Eerdinand the Ca-
tholic, by no means prodigal of his money, even towards the church, endowed
more than one monastery of the order. Charles the Eifth honoured it still
further by selecting Yuste, as we have seen, for the place of his retreat ; and
Philip the Second distinguished it from every other fraternity by lodging its
members in the palace-convent of the Escorial.

The community at Yuste was among the most ancient houses of the order,
dating from the year 1404. The name, which some writers have incor-

BOOK I.] THE CONVENT OP YUSTE. 521

rectly called St. Just, or St. Justus, was derived from no suiut. but from a
little stream that gushed from the neighbouring hills. The hanaful of monks,
of which the convent consisted at the beginning, were sorely annoyed by
the depredations and insults to which they were exposed from a neighbour-
ing monastery of a rival order. They were subsequently placed by their
superior under the protection of the counts of Oropcsa, who possessed lar^e
patrimonial estates in that quarter of the country. In process of time the
little community grew in opulence and strength so as to be able to protect
itself. Its broad acres extended far over the cultivated vera ; its convent waa
surrounded with orange-gardens aiid orchards ; the buildings graduallv ex-
panded from diminutive cloisters into the ampler dimensions required for
ilie accommodation of the increased number of the inmates, and not long
before the arrival of Charles had been enlarged by a spacious quadrangle,
that displayed the more elegant style of architecture which had been re-
cently introduced from Italy.

In the hour of their prosperity the monks of Yuste fully vindicated the
reputation for hospitality belonging to their order. Their doors were freely
opened to the pilgrim ; their board was bountifully spread for the poor who
craved anns at the convent gate ; and the good brethren, to whom long prac-
tice had given a skill that almost amomited to science, were never weary of
administering reKef to the sick and the infirm.

How Charles came to choose this secluded spot in Estremadm-a as the
place of his retreat is not very clear. There is no evidence that he had ever
seen it. Yet, as he is knovrn to have resided more than once in its neighbour-
hood, he may possibly have strayed over the beautiful vera, or at least have
gathered such reports of it from those in the country as pleased his fancy.
And certainly it was the place of all others best suited to his pui-pose. Nest-
ling among the dark forests of oak and chestnut that clothed tlie sides and
descended to the lower slopes of the sierra, the convent of Yuste looked
down on the cultivated plain which stretched for some leagues in an un-
broken expanse towards the city of Plasencia. In the depths of these sylvan
solitudes the monarch misht indulge in all the luxury of a life of quiet con-
templation, while he would not be too far removed from means of intercourse
with the world, with which, as we shall see hereafter, he was still, in his
retirement, to maintain a lively sympathy.

Charles had obtained a plan from two of the best architects in Spain for
the construction of such a dweUiiig;, to be attached to the convent, as should
answer for the accommodation of liimself and the few followers who were
to accompany him to his retreat. He had advised PhOip of his intention to
build, and ai'terwards had directed his son to visit the spot in person and
quicken the operations of those who had charge of the work. But it was not
in the power either of Chailes or Philip to change the laws of nature, or to
accelerate the sluggish movements of the Spaniard. More than two years
had elapsed ; and, though the plan of the Duilding was extremely smiple.
the work was far from being completed. The emperor's impatience could
brook no further delay. But there was good reason to fear, that, on his
arrival at Yuste, the mansion would not be ready for his reception.

On the eighth of August, 155G, Charles qmtted Brussels, and took his
way to the port of Plushing, where a fleet of fifty-six vessels was waiting
to escort him and his retinue to Spain. He was accompanied by a number
of Plemish lords, some few of whom were to attend hiai on liis voyage. Among
these was Plorence de Montmorency, baron of Montigny, the unfortunate
nobleman afterwards doomed by his sovereign to an obscure and ignominious
death. In tlie company were also two sisters of the emperor, the dowager
queens of Hungary and Portugal. The former and younger of these, Maiy,

522 CHAIiLES DEPARTS FEOM THE ^^ETIIERLANDS, fBOOK I.

liad lately held the post of regent of the Netherlands, where her vigorous
rule had for many years put a curb on the free and independent spirit of
the people. In her masculme qualities she formed a striking contrast to her
amiable sister, the once beautiful Eleanor, the ill-assorted bride of Prancis
the First, and, after bis death, married to the king of Portugal, whom she
had also sui-vived. She was a jear older than the emperor, who had always
regarded her with peculiar affection, which be intimated, in his correspondence,
by usually addressing her as "ma meilleurc sceurP The royal ladies, who
held their brother in the greatest reverence, like him were weary of the
world, and wished for the remainder of their days to enjoy the sweets of
domestic privacy. They would have accompanied Charles to his place of
retirement. But as that could not be, they proposed to seek out some
quiet spot in the Peninsula, as little removed as might be from the monastic
residence of the emperor.

The imperial train was yet further swelled by a considerable number of
followers, who were to be permanently retained in the service of the monarch.
The emperor's household had been fonned on the splendid model of the Bur
gundian court. It had consisted of no less than seven hundred and sixty-two
persons. Prom these he now selected one hundred and fifty to attend him
to Spain, of whom somewhat more than a tliird were to remain with him
at Yuste. Among the number were his major-domo, his physician, his secre-
taries, his chamberlains, and other functionaries, intimating that, though he had
chosen a monastery as the place of his residence, he had no intention of leading
the Life of a monk.

Philip joined his father at Ghent.^ There tbe emperor, tenderly embracing
bis son, bade him adieu, and left him to assume that burden of sovereignty
which had pressed so heavily on bis own declining years. Charles continued
his way to the coast, where, on the thirteenth of September, he embarked on
board the Bertendona, a Biscayan vessel of five hundred and sixty-five tons,
which had been fitted up expressly for his accommodation. The emperor's
cabin, wliich was on the upper deck, consisted of two large apartments, and
two smaller rooms, or cabinets. It was furnished with eight wiiidows, which
commanded views in every direction. The wood- work was curiously carved,
and hung with green drapery. The bed, as well as some of the heavier arm-
chairs, was suspended by ropes from the ceiling, that the emperor's goutv
limbs might be as little incommoded as possible by the motion of the vessel.
On the same deck accommodations were provided for some of his principal
attendants ; while below, ample space was allotted to the royal kitcnen, and
to the larder, which was bountifully supplied with stores for the voyage.

His two sisters, with their retinues, had quarters prepared for them in a
Flemish vessel. On the thirteenth the fleet weighed anchor, but, encounter-
ing a head wind, was detained at Bammekens, where Charles, on the morning
of the seventeenth, received a final visit from his son, who had lingered at
Ghent. On the afternoon of the same day the fleet took its departure.

It was on the seventh of September, 1517, thirty-nine years before this,
that Charles had quitted these same shores on a visit to Spain, whither he
was going to receive the rich inheritance which had descended to him from
his grand-;^arents, Ferdinand and Isabella the Catholic. He was then in the
morning ol Hfe, just entering on a career as splendid as ever opened to young

1 So says Vandernesse, in opposition to some other authorities. His name, however,
outweighs them all. He filled an important office in the household of the emperor, and
afterwards in that of his son. His work, which is a simple itinerary, is still in manu-
script, and copies of it are not readily met with. My own copy is from a manuscript
in the Impei-ial Library of Vienna.

BOOK I.] AND ARRIVES IN SPAIN. 523

ambitiou. How different must have been tlic reflections "wiiieh now crowded
on his mind, as with wasted health, and spirits sorely depressed, he embarked
on the same voyage ! He had run the race of glory, had won the prize, and
foimd that all was vanity. He was now returning to the goal whence he had
started, anxious only to reach some quiet spot where he might lay down his
weary limbs and be at rest.-'

In passing tiu-oughthe Channel, the course of the fleet ^yas again interrupted
by contrary winds. WhOe it lav off Dover, the lord high admiral came out
with a squadron of five ships, desirous to pay his respects to the father-
in-law of his queen. He was received on board, and pennitted to kiss the
emperor's hand. A favourable breeze spmng up, as the fleet neared the Isle
of Wight, and, continuing to blow for several days, enabled Charles to hold
Ids course without fuiiher delay till he reached the coast of Spain. Fortu-
nately the propitious state of the weather allowed the emperor to effect his
landing witnout inconvenience, on the twenty-eighth of September, in the
ancient port of Laredo. But scarcely had he set foot on shore when the wind
freshened into a tempest, which scattered his little navy, compelling the ship
bearing the queens to take refuge in the neighbouring port of Santander, and
doing much damage to some merchant-vessels off' the coast, one of which,
with its crew on board, went to the bottom. This disaster is so far embel-
lished by the chroniclers of the time, that, giving a touch of the maiTellous to
the account, they represent the lost sliip to have been the emperor's, and
that it went down as soon as he had left it. If this were so, it would be
still more marvellous that no allusion to the circumstance should be found in
any of the letters— of which we have several— from members of Charles's
household while at Laredo.

As little do we find mention made of another extraordinary circumstance
reported by the historians, who tell us that the emperor, on landing, prostrated
himself on the earth, exclaiming, " 0 thou common mother of mankind, naked
came I from thy bosom, and naked I return to it." The incident, however
edifying in the moral it may convey, has no better foundation than the
invention of writers, who, far removed from the scene of action, and ignoi-ant
of what really took place there, were willing, by the exhibition of startling
contrasts, to stimulate the imagination of their readers.

Charles, on landing, found his patience put to a severe trial by the scanty
preparations made for his reception. An epidemic had broken out on the
voyage, which had carried oft* several of the men, while others remamed dan-
gerously ill. There were no physicians in Laredo, and scarcely accommoda-
tions for the well, much less for the sick. The emperor had directed that six
chaplains should be there to meet him. Their spiritual services, in the pre-
sent state of liis followers, were more than ever requii-ed. He had ex-
pected, moreover, to find a considerable sum of money for the pajment of the
fleet and for defraying the expenses of the voyage. There was nothing of all
this to be seen. The only persons in waiting for him were an alcalde named
JDurango, with a posse of alguazils, and the bishop of Salamanca. li it had
not been for the active exertions of the good prelate, it would have been
difficult for the royal party to procure the means of subsistence.

Charles gave audible vent to his displeasure at tliis apnarent neglect ; his
feelings were exhibited in a manner not to be mistaken in the letter? addressed
by his orders to Valladolid, where his daughter Joanna, the regent, was
holding her court. This neglect of a father who had so recently given all that
he had to Philip, has brought much obloquy on his head. But it would seem
to be undeserved. On the fourteenth of May he had written to his sister,

' I nni indebted to Gachard for the snggestion of this striking contrast.

524 PEEPAEATIONS FOE THE EMPEEOE's EECEPTION. [bOOK I.

the regent, informing her of the emperor's speedy return to Spain, and direct-
ing her to have everything in readiness for him on his landing. These com-
mands he had repeated in a second letter, dated the twenty-sixth of August.
He had been particular iu his instructions, si)ecifying the six chaplains and
the money for the fleet, and enjoining on his sister to make such arrange-
ments as were due to their father's rank, and would best secure his personal
comfort. These directions he had repeated yet again in a third letter, MTitten
September the eighth, shortly before Charles's embarkation. Philip, at his
distance from the scene of action, could do no more.

Joaima, on receiving these instructions from her brother, gave orders at
once to carry them into effect. But with the procrastinating nabits of the
Spaniards, it was much easier to command than to execute. Yet some of
the blame may be reasonably laid at the emperor's own door, who, had he
come earlier, might possibly have found things in a better state of prepara-
tion. But he had postponed the period of his return so often, that the minds
of his subjects were unsettled by the delay; and when at last he did come,
they were taken unawares.

When Joanna received the letter announcing her father's presence in the
country, she at once caused thanks to be offered up in the churches for his
safe arrival. At the same time she despatched a messenger to the emperor's
major-domo, Don Luis Quixada, then residing on his estate in the neignbour-
hood of Yalladolid, ordering him to proceed with all expedition to the coast,
and make the necessary arrangements for his master's journey to the capital.
He was especially to ascertain in what manner her father wished to be re-
ceived at court, — whether with the honours due to his rank, or simplv as a
private citizen. As this personage is to occupy a prominent place in the re-
mainder of our narrative, it will be well to acquamt the reader with some
particulars of his history.

Luis Mendez Quixada belonged to an ancient and honourable family ; but
as he was a younger son, the family name was the best part of his inheritance.
His first introduction at court was as a page in the imperial household. He
afterwards entered the army, received a commission as captain of infantry,
and in time rose to the raiik of colonel. He followed the emperor to the
wars, and distinguished himself on various occasions by his gallantry. He
was a strict martinet, and was rem.arked for the perfect discipline which he
maintained among the men under his command. The emperor, with whose
acute perception of character the reader has become acquainted, did full
justice to the excellent qualities, and especially the trustworthiness and loyal
devotion of Quixada. He was appointed one of the three major-domos who
formed part of the imperial household. In his new capacity he was brought
into frequent intercourse with his master, who soon bestowed on him more
of his confidence than he gave to any other man. Jit least this is true in one
remarkable instance. Charles entrusted to his care his illegitimate son, Don
John of Austria, the famous hero of Lepanto, when a child of tliree years of
age, at the same time confiding to Quixada the secret of his birth. The major-
domo was married to Doiia Magdalena de UUoa, a lady of illustrious lineage,
which she graced by virtues so rare as to be commemorated in a special bio-
graphy, that has expanded into a respectable quarto under the hands of one
of her countrymen. Dona Magdalena took the boy to her home and her heart,
supposing him the fruit of some early amour of her lord's, previous to his
marriage. Quixada did not think proper to undeceive the kind-hearted lady,
and faithfully kept the perilous secret, which he may have thought was the
emperor's secret rather than his own. Under her maternal care the young
hero, who always regarded his foster-mother with grateful affection, was
carefully trained in those accomphshments which fitted him for the brilliant
career oa whicb he was afterwards to enter.

BOOK I.] HIS ARRIVAL AT BUHGOS. 593

Quixada was a fine specimen of the old Spanish hidalgo. Proud, puncti-
lious, precise in his notions, he was as nice in the point of honour as any
palaoin of romance. He was most orthodox in his creed ; but though a true
son of the Church, he had no respect for monks, as he showed rather plainly
during his residence at Yuste. His nature was frank and honest; ana as he
seems to have been somewhat querulous in his temper, he delivered his mind
occasionally with a freedom that had in it something less of courtesy than
candour. 1 or the emperor he had the greatest reverence. This did not, how-
ever, prevent him from addressing his master at times with a degree of plain-
ness to which the royal ear was but little accustomed. Charles had the good
sense not to be displeased with tliis frankness, for he well knew the sincerity
and the strength of Quixada's attachment. He had been, moreover, too long
on the throne not to know that truth was the jewel of greatest price, and
the one most rarely to be found in the palaces of princes. Once, writing to
liis sou concerning his preceptor, Zuniga, the emperor remarked, " If he deals
plainlv with you, it is lor the love he bears you. If he were to flatter you, he
would be like all the rest of the world, and you would have no one near to
tell you the truth ; and a worse thing cannot happen to any one, old or
young." When Charles had made up his mind to return to Spain, he settled
on Quixada as the most suitable person to make the arrangements for his
journey through the country, and afterwards to take charge of his establish-
ment at Yuste. The result justified his choice.

On receiving the regent's letter, the major-domo at once threw himself
into his saddle, and posted with all expedition to the coast. Notwithstanding
the bad condition of the roads, he performed the journey of fifty-five leagues
in something less than three days, making arrangements as he went along for
the emperor's reception.

Quixada's arrival at Laredo was greeted with joy hj the whole party, and
by none more than Charles, who seemed to feel tnat, m the presence of his
major-domo, all difiiculties would speedilv vanish. No time, indeed, was lost ;
for on the day following, the sixth of October, the emperor and his suite
were on the way to Valladolid. As the road frequently passed across rough
and hilly tracts of uncultivated country, the emperor travelled in a horse-
litter, and over the more difficult passages was borne by his attendants in a
chair. Quixada rode by his side ; and the rest of his train followed on horse-
back. A lon^ file of mules, with the baggage, brought up the rear. The van
was led by the alcalde, Durango, and his posse of alguazils, giving to the
whole procession, as Quixada thought, much the appearance of a gang of
prisoners under the convoy of officers of justice. The two queens, with their
retinues, followed at the cfistance of a day's march in the rear, to obviate the
annoyance that might arise from the want of accommodations for so large a
party. For the greater convenience of Charles, who could ill endure the
fatigue of so long a journey, he proceeded by short stages, seldom exceeding
four or five leagues in a day.

As the cavalcade advanced into the country, and the tidings spread abroad
of the emperor's return, great numbers assembled on the route to take their
last look at their sovereign. At all the prmcipal places where he halted, he
wai met bv the great lords of the neighbourhood, and by deputations from
the councils and from the authorities of the cities. As he drew near to Burgos,
the great constable of Castile, attended by a gaUant retinue of followers,
came out to meet him. He would fain have persuaded the emperor to allow
arrangements to be made by the inhabitants for giving him a solemn re-
ception; but this he positively declined. The evening had set in before
Charles entered the ancient city of the Cid. He was not allowed to do this
with the privacy he had desired ; and as he passed through its iUumiuated
streets, the bells of the churches sent forth a merry peal to«ive him welcome.

526 CHARLES MEETS HIS GllANDSOX, DON CARLOS. [BOOK I.

He was conducted bv the constable to his own mansion, the hereditary halls
of the Velascos. While there, the admiral of Castile, the duke of Infantado,
and the principal grandees who resided in that quarter, with others, like the
duke of Medma Sidonia, and the duke of Medhia Cosli, whose estates lay
chiefly in the south, came to pay their obeisance to their ancient master.
Deputations arrived from the chancery of Valladolid, and from the diifereut
cities, bearing loyal addresses from their municipalities. After enjoying for
two days the hospitalities of the constable, Charles again set forward on his
journey. He was attended for some distance by his host ; and Don Frances
de Beamonde, at the head of a strong escort, accompanied him the remainder
of the way to Valladolid. This arrangement gave great satisfaction to Quixada,
as it enabled him to dispense with the further attendance of the alcalde and
his posse.

On the thii-d evening after they had quitted Burgos, the travellers halted
at Torquemada, a town pleasantly situated in the midst of a rich and culti-
vated country. Here the emperor was met by Don Pedro de la Gasca, bishop
of Valencia. This eminent prelate had been entrusted by Charles with an ex-
traordinary mission to the New World, when the rebellion of Gonzalvo
Pizarro threatened Spain with the loss of Peru. Gasca, with signal ability
and address, succeeded in quashing the insurrection, iu defeating its leaders
and bringing them to punishment, and, finally, in reclaiming the tottering
allegiance of the inhabitants, thus securing to Castile the fairest of her colo-
nies. In return for these services he had been raised by Charles to the see
of Valencia. On leammg his sovereign's approach, the good bishop sent a
liberal supply of poultry, fruit, and wine, for the refreshment of the royal
party, and on the foUowmg morning came in person to pay his homage to the
emperor.

At Cabezon, a place about two leagues from Valladolid, Charles had the
satisfaction of meeting his grandson, the infant Don Carlos, that unfortunate
prince, whose brief but disastrous career forms so melancholy a page in the
chronicles of the time. The boy, who was then eleven years old, had been
sent imm Valladolid to meet his gi*andfather. One may well believe that it
was with no little interest that Charles regarded his descendant, the heir to
the monarchy. He had Carlos to sup with him at his own table ; and as the
lad showed much curiosity in regard to military aflairs, the emperor enter-
tained him with an account of his campaigns. When he described his flight
from Inspruck, Carlos exclaimed, " I never would have fled." His grand-
father endeavoured to convince him of the necessity of flight in order to avoid
falling into the enemy's hands. But the boy only repeated, with more ear-
nestness than before, "/never would have iled," — greatly to the delight of
the emperor, who saw in this the mettle of his own earlier 'days.

But the penetrating eye of Charles was not slow in discerning other traits
in his grandson's character, which fiUed him with apprehension. " He seems
very restless," said the emperor; "neither liis behaviour nor his temper
pleases me. I know not what is to become of him." The young prince was
much taken with a little portable stove, wliich his grandfather can-ied with
him, in default of fire-places, to warm his apartment. Carlos would willingly
have appropriated this article to himself ; but the emperor gave him to imder-
stand that this could not be till he was dead. The care of the prince's
education had been entinisted to his aunt, the regent. Charles, when he saw
his daughter in Valladolid, plainly told her that "if she showed less in-
dulgence to the child, the nation would have more reason to thank her."

Along the route by which the emperor travelled, people had assembled ia
great numbers to see him pass. There were two roads from Cabezon, by
which the capital was to be approached. One was more retired than the

I

BOOK I.] UIS BECEPTION AT VALLADOLID. 527

other ; and some of Charles's suite, knowing his aversion to crowds, would
iam have persuaded him to take it. He determined to do so, when the honest
Quixada represented "that it would not be right to hide himself from his loyal
subjects, who wished to look on him for the last time." The major-domo
prevailed^ but Charles would by no means consent that preparations should
be made tor giving him a public reception in Valladolid. This might be done,
he said, for his two sisters, who accordmgly made their entrance in great state
into the capital, escorted by a brave procession of nobles and cavaliers, headed
by the authorities of the city,

Valladolid was at this time, as indeed it had been for many years, the resi-
dence of the court. In this pre-eminence it had succeeded Toledo, the ancient
capital of the Visigoths, it was not till the reign of Philip the Second that
it lost this distinction, and the seat of goveminent was transferred to Madrid,
which thenceforth became the permanent capital of the monarchy, Valladolid
was at this time, therefore, in the zenith of its gloiy, embellishca with stately
public buildings, and Idled with the palaces of the great nobles, who naturally
sought a residence in the neighbourhood of the coui-t.

Ciiarles was received in the most loving and dutiful manner by his daughter,
who conducted him to the mansion of Ruy Gomez de Silva, Philip's favourite
minister. This the emperor preferred to taking up his quarters in the royal
palace, which was consequently assigned to his sisters. He spent some tune
m the fair city, enjoying tlie societyof his daughter, and recruiting his strength
after the fatigues of his journey. During his stay his house was thronged with
visitors, among whom we find some of tne principal grandees, and such of the
prelates as were at the coui-t. These attentions were the more grateful to
Charles, since, now that he had resigned the sceptre, they carried with them
tlie appearance of being rendered to the man rather than to the monarch.
The members of the council, the corregidor, and the municipality obtained
an audience of their ancient master, and were permitted to kiss his hand.
To all he showed that gracious deportment which he knew so well how to
assume, and which contrasted strongly with the impassable reserve— the
sodego, as the Spaniards term it — which had so chilling an effect on those
who were admitted to the presence of his son. The ladies of the court, who
came to take leave of him, were received by Charles with the same distin-
guished courtesy. It was on one of these occasions that Perico de Sant Erbas,
one of that privileged class of fools, or rather wits, who in ancient times were
the necessaiy appendage of a court, happening to pass across the saloon,
Charles, in a meiry vein, touched his cap to him. " You are welcome," said
the jester ; " do you raise your hat to me because you are no longer emperor ?"
"No, Pedro," replied Charles; "but because I have nothing but this poor
courtesy to give you,"

Among those w^ho waited on the monarch were three of the brethren
from Yuste, and at their head the general of the order. The good father
acquainted him with the progress that had been made in the works at
Yuste, He assured him, moreover, of the great satisfaction felt by the
fraternity that his majesty should have condescended to choose their abode
as the place of his retreat. With the assistance of these monks, Charles was
enabled to select from the dilferent convents of the order such individuals
as were best qualified to conduct the service of the chapel, as well as those
whose piety and learaing fitted them to ofiiciate as his preachers, — persons,
in short, who might form what may be called the religious part of his esta-
olishment.

During his stay at Valladolid, the emperor attended to the despatch
of souie important affairs of a public nature. He had daily communication
with his daughter, and gave her the benefit of his large experience in admi-

52S LOYALTY OF THE PEASANTRY ON THE EMPEROR's ROUTE. [BOOK h

nistering the government of the kingdom. It was evident that, if he was
willing to follow the example of Diocletian in withdrawing from the world, he
had no mind, like that monarch, to divorce himself from the great interests
of humanity.

After prolonging his stay for a fortnight in Yalladolid, Charles prepared
to resume his journey. On the fourth of November he consented, for the
last time, to the ceremony of dining in public. On that same afternoon he
took an affectionate leave of his daughter and his grandson, and of his two
sisters, who were to accompany him no farther. He was attended by a large
train of nobles and cavaliers to the gates of the city, where he courteously
dismissed them, though many would gladly have followed him on his route.
He accepted, however, the escort of a small body of mounted horsemen and
forty halberdiers, who were to continue with him till he arrived at Yuste.

In quitting ValladoHd, Charles seemed to turn his back for ever on the
pomps and glories of the world, and in the separation from his family to sever
the last tie which bound him to life. He travelled in a litter, and by easy
stages, as before. The second night he passed at the ancient town of Medina
del Campo, famous as the spot which witnessed the last hours of the greatest
and best of his ancestral line, Isabella the Catholic, He did not, however,
occupy the royal residence, which probably had not been made more comfort-
able by age, but took up his quarters for the night with a wealthy banker,
named Rodrigo de Duenas. This person, whether to display his ricnes, or to
do honour to his illustrious guest, had the emperor's apartment warmed by
a brazier of solid gold, which, instead of the usual fuel, was fed with sticks
of cinnamon. The perfume of the cinnamon was disagreeable to Charles,
who, when he went away on the foRowing morning, in order to rebuke the
ostentation of his host, would not permit him to kiss his hand, and caused him,
moreover, to be paid for the night's lodging, like any ordinary innkeeper.
Yet Charles gave no such sign of displeasure at the similar compliment which
he had once received from the Euggers, the famous bankers of Germany.
On his return from his memorable expedition against Tunis, for which they
had advanced him considerable sums of money, Charles spent the night at
their house at Augsburg ; and his hosts filled the brazier in his chamber, in
like manner, with cinnamon. But to show their gratitude for the sei-vice
the emperor had rendered Christendom in breaking up the nest of Barbary
pirates, they threw Charles's receipts for the money they had lent him into
the fire, which so far qualified the odour of the cinnamon that it gave no
offence to the royal nostrils.

As the travellers penetrated farther into the interior, and left the great
world behind them, Charles felt in anticipation all the luxury of the retire-
ment to which hewas hastening. " Heaven be praised I" he exclaimed, " after
this no more visits of ceremonyj no more receptions !" Their route lay in
a southerly direction; but, as it wound round the base of the mountain
ran^e that, in its course from east to west, traverses the central parts of the
Peninsula, the keen air chilled the emperor, who, from his delicate tempera-
ment, was extremely sensitive to cold. As the luxury of fireplaces was a
thing unknown in these parts, he was obliged to keep liimself warm by means
of his portable stove. Everywhere along the route the people gave all the

E roofs in their power of the most loyal devotion. They aided his progress
y clearing away the obstacles in the roa;d, which became worse and worse as
it was farther removed from the great highways of the country. They knew
Charles's tastes ; and they searclied the streams for trout, eels, and other
fish, of which he was extremely fond, and with which his table was liberally
supplied whenever he halted.
On the tweKth of November, the emperor reached Tornavacas, a small

BOOK I.] CHARLES AMUVES AT JAHANDILLA, 529

place near the northern confines of Estremadura. It was separated hy a
bold sierra from the Fera, or Valley, of Plascueia, on the border of wluch
stood the monastery which was the object of Charles's pilgrimage. The Fera
was to be approached in two ways. One was by scaling the mountain
barrier that separated it from Tomavacas. This might be done in a few
hours ; but the road, if so it could be called, which was little more than a
path affording meiuis of communication for the peasantry of the neighbour-
hood, was nigged and precipitous. A more easy way would lead the travel-
lers along the winding Xerte to the city of Plascueia, from which the route lay
across a smooth level plaiu, that stretched nearly to the walls of Yuste. This,
however, would add lour days to the journey ; and Charles, wearied with
his long protracted travel, determined, with characteristic energy, to brave
the dangers of the momitain.

Early on the following morning he beran the ascent, which was quite as
formidable as it had been represented. Eortunately, he was assisted by the
peasantry, who were familiar with the route. A band of these hardy rustics
went before, armed with pikes, shovels, and other instrmnents, to clear away
the rubbish in the path. The mountain-sides had been cut into deep guUies
by the winter torrents, which had swept do^n large fragments of trees from
the forests above, and occasionally laid bare a huge splinter of the rock, that
seemed to defy all farther progress. The narrow path, winding round the edge
of dizzy precipices, afforded a precarious foothold, where a single false step
might be fatal to the traveller. It was a formidable adventui-e even for the
unencumbered pedestrian, and was rendered the more dilficult, in the present
instance, by the helpless condition of the emperor. The peasants relieved the
attendants of their royal burden, which might have proved too much for
them. They succeeded one another in the task of bearing the litter ; while
the faithful Quixada, armed with his long pike, strode by its side, and gave
general directions for eonductmg the operations. In the worst parts of the
road, the emperor was obliged to be borne in. his chair ; and occasionally
the sturdy msties can-ied him in their arms.

At lengthy after some hours of excessive toil, the jjarty reached the most
elevated pomt of their route ; and, as they emerged from the dark defiles of
the Fuerto Kuevo, — since called " The Emperor's Pass," — he exclaimed, " It
is the last pass I shall go through in this world, save that of death."

The descent was compai-ativcly easy ; and Charles's eyes were soon glad-
dened by the sight of the beautiful Fem and its bright carpet of verdure,
which had not yet be^un to fade under the cold touch of autumn. An occa-
sional hamlet, glistening in the distance, relieved the unbroken character of
the expanse, terminated on the west by the stately city of Placensia. Nearer
by several leagues might be dimly descried_ the gray ^yalls of Yuste, half
hidden among the groves of chestnut which fringed the skirts of the sierra.

As Charles's dwelling was not yet fit for his reception, it was decided that
lie should remain for the present at Jaranddla, a village two leagues east of
Yuste, where there was a castle belonging to the count of Oropesa, a noble-
man who, as already mentioned, had large estates in the neighbourhood. It
was a lordly pile, the ruins of wnich ai'C yet to be seen; while the emperor's
temporary residence there is commemorated by a fountain in the garden,
which still bears his name.

Charles met with the most hospitable reception from its loyal master, who
had prepared for his accommodation a spacious apartment, with a pleasant
aspect towards the south, looking down upon a garden of citron and orange-
trees. The weather was fine ; and, notwithstanding the fatigues of the day,
the emperor, pleased with the spot, was in excellent spirits. In the midst
of this fine weather at Jarandilla, the Elemings could see, from tiie windows

2m

530 DISCONTENT OF THE EilPEROR's HOUSEHOLD. [BOOK I.

of the castle, dense masses of vapour, rolling lazily along the sides of tiie
mountain where Yuste was situated. Soon the cool niglits of autumn began
to make themselves felt. The emperor, accustomed to the use of fireplaces
in rianders, exchanged his apartment for one where he had caused a chimney
to be made. Soon afterwards, the count of Oropesa, surrendering his castle
entirely to the use of his royal guest, withdrew to another residence on a dis-
tant quarter of his estates.

As winter approached, the rainy season set in. The streets of Jarandilla
were saturated with water ; and the poor major-domo with difficultv waded
through the mire in the i)erformance of his duties, which required him to
provide for the accommodation of the imperial retinue. To add to his vexation,
the village was but scantily provided with the means of supporting so large
and unexpected an addition to its usual population. The querulous tone of
Quixada's letters shows the perplexities of his situation. Yet it was impos-
able for Charles to abridge the number of his retinue until he was supplied
with the means of paying their arrears by a remittance from Valladohd. The
emperor's household cast many a rueful glance at the damp and desolate spot
which he had selected for his abode ; where the constant humidity of the
atmosphere, they argued, boded no good to the infirmities of their master.
Quixada did not hesitate to intimate as much to him. But the emperor an-
swered, that, " in all parts of Spaia where he had been, he had found that it
was cold and rainy in the winter."

The major-domo and the secretary, Gaztelu, unbosomed themselves more
freely in their correspondence with the secretary of state at Valladolid. They
vented their discontent in the most doleful prognostics of the influence of
such a climate on the emperor's constitution, speaking, at the same time, in
no very flattering tei-ms of the accommodations provided for him at the con-
vent, and of the character of its inmates. They requested that their com-
plaints might not reach the ears of the regent ; but in some way or other
the emperor's family became so far persuaded of their truth, that his sister,
the queen of Hungary, wrote to beg him not to take up his residence at
Yuste. Charles, though somewhat annoyed by this interference with his plans,
good-humouredly wrote in answer, that "the lion was not so terrible as he
was painted,"

It is strange that those who knew him so well should have thought so easily
to turn him from his purpose. Slow, to an uncommon degree, in deciding
on his measures, when these had been once settled, no power on earth was
strong enough to make him change them. He was aware of this trait in his
character, and once spoke of it to the Yenetian, Contarini. The courtly
envoy observed, it was not obstinacy to adhere to sound opinions. "True,"
replied Charles ; "but I sometimes adhere to those which are unsound."

Towards the latter part of November, he availed himself of a day somewhat
more propitious than usual to cross over to Yuste, and examine the condition
of the works with his own eyes. He professed to be well pleased with the
appearance of the place, and with the arrangements for his accommodation.
He even gave directions to provide for more than double the number of
persons he had originally designed to lodge there ; and when Brother Roger,
to whom the charge of making the arrangement was entrusted, ventured to
suggest the impossibility of providing accommodations for so large a number,
Charles silenced him by telnng liim " to do as he was bid, and not give his
opinion in the matter." Charles's household came at length to comprehend
that remonstrances, from whatever quarter, would have no efl'ect to tui-n him
from his pm-pose. "The emperor will never change his pm^pose," wrote the
desponding secretary, " though heaven and earth should come together."

'The i:ain now continued to fall without intermission, and with a degree of

BOOK I.] CHARLES'S OPINIONS ON PUBLIC AITAIBS. 531

violence exceeding anything that the Spaniards had seen in other parts of
the country. " As much water falls here in a single hour," wrote Quixada,
" as ill a whole day in Valladolid ; in Yuste they tell me it is still worse."
The secretai7's report is not better. **The fogs," he writes, " are so thick,
that one cannot oistinguish a man twenty paces distant." The emperor,
who during the tine weather had strolled out for exercise, and occasionally
amused himself with his fowling-piece, was now imprisoned in his apartment,
and could only keep himself warm by sitting in the chimney-comer, rolled up
in his robe of eider-down, which had been sent to him by his daughter Joanna.
Here he would sit, and listen greedily to the despatches which came from
Brussels or Valladolid.

Spain was at that time engaged in a war with Paul the Fourth, a pontiff
who, emulatiug the belligerent spirit of Julius the Second, converted his
crosier into a sword, and vowed to drive the barbarians out of Italy. Charle"
listened with the deepest interest to the accounts furnished him from time to
time of the war, and of the victorious career of the duke of Alva. When
Gaztelu had linished reading, he would ask, " Is there nothing more ?" But
when he heard of the truce made by the Spanish commander at the very
time when the fate of Home seemed to hang upon his sword, Charles's
indignation knew no bounds. He would not so much as listen to the terms
of the treaty, as his secretary teUs us. " It was only giving time to the
French," he' said, '' to unite their forces with those of the pope ;" muttering
other thinE^s between his teeth, not easy to be understood. He delivered
his mind freely on the subject, in his letters both to Philip and Joanna.
When the French war soon after broke out, he wrote in the most pressing
manner to his daughter, urging the necessity of placing the frontiers, espe-
cially Navarre, in the best state of defence. He admonished her to strengthen
the fleet on the coasts, to pay off the debt due to the German bankers, that
the credit of the country, so important at such a crisis, might be maintained,
and to provide for the security of the African possessions, — for that of Oran,
in particular, which, with a prophetic eye, he pointed out as a probable place
of attack ; " and were this to be lost," he added, " I should desire not to Toe in
Spain, nor the Indies, nor anywhere on earth where tidings of an event sa
disastrous to the king and to the monarchy could ever reach me."

It was clear that Charles, if he had withdrawn from the world, was not
weaned from a lively interest in whatever touched the welfare of the country.
On this and other occasions, he was ready to fortify the inexperience of his
successor by those lessons of practical wisdom which had gained for him the
reputation of being the shrewdest prince in Christendom. Phihp often in-
vited the emperor's interference in his concerns ; and, to do him justice, he
seems to have shown the same deference to the opinions and wishes of his-
father in retii-ement, that he had shown to him in the fulness of his power,
when his wishes were commands.

The tedium of Charles's confinement to the house was occasionally relieved
by the visits which he consented to receive from some of the nobles resident
in the neighbourhood, who were desirous to pay their respects to him. The
count of Oropesa, and his brother, who had been viceroy of Peru, were con-
stant in their attentions. He found particular pleasure in a visit from Don
Luis de AvUa y Zuiiiga, grand commander of the order of Alcantara. This
remarkable man, after a long and successful career in public Ufe, had come to
pass the evening of his days at his princely residence in Plasencia. In his
youth he had accompanied the emperor to the wars, and had fought by his
side at Tunis and in the German campai^s, where he had achieved a ni^h
military reputation. He had subsequently served his master in a diplomatic
capacity, and been entrusted by him with the conduct of some important

2m2

538 CHAEACTEE. AND CABEER OF BOEJA. [BOOK I.

negotiations. Finally, ambitious of gracing the trophies he had won both as
a soldier and a statesman with the laurels of authorship, he wrote a history of
the campaigns against the Protestants m Germany, in which be had himself
performed so distinguished a part. The work was so successful that it passed
through several editions in his lifetime, and was translated into various Eu-
ropean languages. Charles showed the greatest kindness to his old com-
panion in arms, whose presence may well have recalled to the emperor the
proud days of his military renown, when victory was sure to wait upon his
banner. And we may imagine that the conversation of the old campaigners
must have turned much more on the stirring scenes of early life, than on the
sober, contemplative themes better suited to the character of the recluse.

Such themes formed a fitter topic for discussion with another of Charles's
visitors, whom in younger days he had honoured with his friendship. This
was the celebrated Francisco de Borja, formerly duke of Gandia, now a
humble member of the Society of Jesus. _ Born in the highest rank of the
Spanish aristocracy, he had early shown himself to be possessed of those re-
fined and elegant accomplishments which in a rough age are less frequently
to be found than the talents of the soldier or the statesman. But these talents
also he possessed in an eminent degree. Charles, quick to discern merit in
the meanest of his subjects, was not likely to be blind to it in one whose birth
placed himin so conspicuous a position; and ho testified his confidence in
Borja by raising him to ofiices of the highest trust and consideration. But
although the latter fully justified his sovereign's favour by the abihty with
which he filled these offices, his heart was not in his business. An intense
devotional feeling had taken possession of his soul. He became weary of the
world and its vanities, and he proposed to abjure them, and to dedicate the
remainder of his life to the great work of his salvation. With his master's
consent, at the age of thnty-seven he resigned liis ducal title and his large
possessions to his eldest son, and entered the Society of Jesus, which, then
m its infancy, had given slender augury of the magnificent fortunes that
awaited it. Here the austerity of his life, the generous sacrifice he had
made of worldly honours, and the mdefatigable zeal which he displayed in
carrying out the objects of the institution, gamed him a reputation for sanc-
tity that fell little short of that of Ignatius Loyola himselt', the founder of
the Jesuits. In time he became general of the order, being the thii-d who fiUed
that post ; and there was probably no one of its members who did more to
establish the reputation of the society, or to open the way to that pre-emi-
nence which it afterwards enjoyed among the rehgious communities of Chris-
tendom.

Borja was at this time in the neighbourhood of Plasencia, where he was
employed in superintending the establishment of a college for his order. On
learning from the count of Oropesa that the emperor would be glad to see
him, he instantly repaired to Jarandilla. When Father Francis " the Sinner"
— for that was the humble name he had assumed — presented liiraself before
Charles, he showed that his present way of life had not eftaced from liis
memory the courtly observances of earlier days. He knelt down before the
emperor, and in that attitude would have addressed him ; but the monarch,
raising Borja up, would not listen to him till he was both seated and covered.
As the interview was private, we have no authentic account of the conversation
that followed. It is said to have related chiefly to the character and circum-
stances of the new society which Bom liad entered. The selection had not
met with liis master's approbation. Charles had seen the humble beginnings
of an order in which his eye did not detect the seeds of future greatness.
With the conservative feelings natural to a monarch and an old man, he was
no friend to ip.r"^^%tion.

BOOK I.] EXCESSIVE APPETITE OF CHAELES. 53X

The institution of the Jesuits liad taken place at a time when the Church of
Rome was trembling under the batteries of Luther. Its avowed purpose was
to uphold the sinking fortunes of the papacy, but Charles, bigot as he was
at heart, did not look at the new order with a more favourable eye, that
it came forward as the spiritual militia of the pope. More than once he had
been at feud with the court of Rome ; and Spain was at this very moment
engaged in a war with tlie Vatican. He would willindy have persuaded
Borja to leave the Jesuits and attach himself to the Jeronjinites, among
whom he was to establish his own residence.

His visitor went into a full discussion of the matter. He stated to the
emperor the grounds of his preference, and explained at great length the
principles on which the society had been organized, and the great objects it
proposed. In the end, if he did not convert his auditor to ms own way of
thinking, which was hardly to be expected, he seems to have so far reconciled
him to the course which he had adopted for himself, that Charles desisted
from any further attempt to make him change it.

Borja remained three days at Jaraudilla, passing most of his time in the em-
peror's apartment. When he took his leave, the unusual compliment was paid
nim of being invited to repeat his visit after the emperor had removed to
Yuste. We may readily conceive that the monarch must have taken much,
comfort in tlie society of one whose situation, in many respects, bore a strong
resemblance to his owti. For, like his master, Borja had resigned fortune,
fame, exalted rank, all that men most covet, that he might dedicate the re-
mainder of his days to Heaven. He had not, however, waited, like Charles,
till disease and disaster had weaned him from the world, but carried his plans
into execution in the freshness of life, in the hour of ambition, when the race
of glory yet remained to be run.

It was not altogether in the refined and intellectual pleasures of reading
and social intercourse that Charles passed the time of his confinement. He
had brought with him into retirement the same relish for the pleasures of the
table which he had indulged through life. His appetite was excessive, rivalling
that of Loiiis the rourteenth or Irederic the Great, or any other royal gour-
mand whose feats are recorded in history. The pertinacity with which he
gratified it under all circumstances amounts to a trait of character. A Ve-
netian envoy at his court, in the latter part of Charles's reign, teUs us that,
before rising in the morning, potted capon was usually served to him, preparea
with sugar, milk, and spices ; after which he would turn to sleep again. At
noon he dined on a variety of dishes. Soon after vespers he took another
meal,* and later in the evemng supped heartily on anchovies, or some other
gross and savoury food, of which lie was particularly fond. The invention of
his cooks was sorely puzzled how to devise rich and high-seasoned dishes to
suit his palate ; and liis maitre d' hotel, much perplexed, told his discontented
master one day, knowing his passion for time-pieces, that " he really did not
know what he could do, unless it were to serve up his majesty a fricassee of
watches." The reply had the effect of provoking a hearty laugh from the
emperor, — a circumstance of rare occurrence in the latter days of his reign.

To wash down this extraordinary quantity of food, Charles drank in pro-
portion. Iced beer was a favourite beverage with him, administered otten
the first thing on rising in the morning. When stronger potations were re-
quired, he had no objection to lihenish wine. Boger Ascham, when in Ger-
many, saw the emperor on St. Andrew's dav, sitting at dinner at tlie feast of
the Golden Fleece. " He drank the best,'' says Ascham, " that I ever saw.
He had his head in the glass five times as long as any of us, and never
drank less than a good quart at once of llhenish." It was in vain that his
physician remonstrated, and that his aonfessor. Cardinal Loaysa, with an inde-

534 CHAELES INDULGES IN THE PLEASURES OF THE TABLE. [BOOK I

pendence which did him credit, admonished him to desist from the pernicious
practice of eating and drinking to excess, reminding him that his Creator had
not sent him into the world to indulge in sensual delights, but by his diligent
labours to save the Christian commonwealth. Charles gave as little heed to
the warnmgs of the divine as to those of the doctor. Unfortunately, his po-
sition enabled him too easily to obtain a dispensation from those fasts of
the Church which might otherwise have stood him in good stead. In the end
came the usual heavy reckoning for such indulgence. He was tormented
with indigestion, bile, gout, and various other maladies that flesh— especially
when high-fed and over-fed — is heir to. The gout was the most formidable
of his foes. Its attacks were incessant. The man who had followed the chase
without fatigue among the roughest passages of the Alpujarras, who had kept
the saddle day and night in his campaigns, and had been esteemed one of the
best jousters in Europe, was obliged at length, whenever he travelled, to be
borne in a litter, like a poor cripple. Care and excessive toil had combined
with his intemperate way of life to break down a constitution naturally ro-
bust ; and, before he had reached the age of fifty, Charles was already au old
man.

The same mischievous propensities accompanied him to his monastic retreat.
In the almost daily correspondence between Quixada, or Gaztelu, and the secre-
tary of state at Valladolid, there is scarcely a letter that does not turn more or
less on the emperor's eating or his illness. The one seems naturally to follow,
like a running commentary, on the other. It is rare that such topics have
formed the burden of communications with the department of state. It must
have been no easy matter for the secretary to preserve his gravity in the peru-
sal of despatches in_ which politics and gastronomy were so strangely mixed
together. The courier from Valladolid to Lisbon was ordered to make a
detour, so as to take JarandiUa in his route, and bring supplies for the royal
table. On Thursdays he was to bring fish to serve for the pur maigre that
was to follow. The trout in the neighboui-hood Charles thought too small ;
so others, of a larger size, were to be sent from Valladolid. Fish of every
kind was to his taste, as, indeed, was anything that in its nature or habits
at aU approached to fish. Eels, frogs, oysters, occupied an important place
in the royal bill of fare. Potted fish, especially anchovies, found great favour
with him ; and he regretted that he had not brought a better supply of these
from the Low Countries. On an eel-pasty he particularly doated. Good sup-
plies of these savoury abominations were furnished, from timeto thne, from
the capital, by his daughter, who thus made amends for the remissness which,
according to Gaztelu, she had shown in supplying the emperor's idSAo, (Jn his
journey through the countrv^ Soles, lampreys, flounders, came in great quan-
tities from Seville and Portugal. The country round JarandiUa funiished the
pieces de resistance, in the form of pork and mutton, for tfie emperor's table.
Game also was to be had in abundance. He had a lively recollection, however,
of some partridges, from a place belonging to the count of Ossorno, formerly
sent to him in Elanders. The major-domo ordered some to be procured
from the same quarter now. But Charles remarked "they did not taste now
as they had formerly tasted." The olives of Estrernadura were too large and
coarse for his liking. Repeated directions were given to procure a supply
from Perejon, the trader who had furnished some of a smaller and more deh-
cate kind, and to obtain from him, if possible, the receipt for pickling them.
One might have thought that the land of pork,' in whicn, as we have seen,
Charles was living, would be that of sausages; but he had not forgotten
those which his mother, "now in glory," was in the habit of having made for
herseK iuTordesillas. There the secretary of state was dii-ected to apply for
some. In case he failed ^r thut nuavter, he could easily obtain a receipt for

I

Ml

Hth(
I^Hco

BOOK 1.1 HE HAS A SEVERE FIT OF THE GOUT. 535

making them from the kitchen of the marquis of Denia. Unfortunately, as
the major-domo laments, the sausages did not reach JarandiUa till Thursday
night ; and, as they could not by any construction come into the category of
fisn, the emperor was obliged to defer his adckesses to them for four and
twenty hours at least ; possibly much longer, as the next letter records a
sharp attack of gout.

The nobles hi the vicinity, who knew Charles's weak side, sent him con-
stantly presents of game and vegetables. The churchmen were equally atten-
tive. The nrior of Oui- Lady of Guadalupe, the archbishop of Saragossa, the
bishop of Plasencia, and the archbishop ot Toledo, were liberal in their con-
tributions ; the last prelate sending a caravan of mules laden with provi-
sions for the supply of the emperor and his suite. The duchesses of ^ejar
and Frias, who hvea in that quarter, testified their devotion to then- ancient
lord by presents of sweetmeats, confectionery, or some little ornament or
article of di-ess. Among the presents received from the latter lady were some
delicate gloves, then a greater rarity than now. Charles, casting a glance at
his gouty fingers, remarked that " the duchess should have sent him hands to
wear them." Quixada, who had complained of the scantiuess of supplies on
his first aiTival at JarandiUa, as they now poured in so abundantly, di-ew the
most doleful auguries of the effects on his master, who, in his present state of
inactivity, might be thought hardly capable of meeting even the ordinary
drafts on his constitution. But remonstrance, as the major-domo plain-
tively wrote to Yalladolid, was of no avad. The result justified his prog-
nostics.

On the twenty-seventh of December, Chaiies had a severe fit of gout, which,
beginning with his right hand and arm, soon extended to the neck, then to the
left arm and hand, and then to the knees, until, ia fine, crippled in all his
limbs, unable so much as to feed himself, the emperor took to his bed, where
he lay several days in great torment. He resorted to his usual remedies, —
his barley-water, his yelks of eggs, and his scuna-wine. This last nostnim
was made of a decoction of senna that had been steeped for some months in
a light wine of excellent quality. Indeed, the process took a year for its
completion. This beverage he considered as possessed of such singular
virtue, that he had ordered the receipt for it to be forwarded from Elanders
to the secretary of state at Valladolid, under whose care the preparation
was to be made. But it could not save liim from other troubles ; and, while
the gout was still on hmi, he had an attack of fever and ague, attended bv a
sore throat that rendered him almost incapable of taking uomishment. This
had one good effect, however ; and Quixada comforted his master by telling
hhn that " the best way to cure the gout was to keep the mouth shut."

The emperor's physician was a young man ; and his daughter, the regent,
sent him her own, as older and more experienced, to advise with him. An-
other of the faculty was also added from Italy, a man of some repute for the
treatment of the disorders to which Charles' was subject. He imdertook to
relieve the emperor of his gout ; but he did not find his patient so tractable
as could be wished. The Italian's first, very reasonable injunction was, that
he should give up his iced beer. But the emperor plainly told him " he would
do no such thing." The doctor then r^onstrated against the climate of
Yuste, as altogether too damp. Chaiies intimated that he could leave it when
he liked, saying that " he had not yet tai.en the vows." Quixada seems to
have had an indifferent opinion of the doctor's skill, and perhaps of that of
the faculty in general; lor he remai-ked that "tne emperor, if he chose,

uld prescribe for himself better .than any one else could." Happily his
master's condition compelled him to resort to that abstinence which was the
only effect ual remedy, let we can hardly accuse him of pushing this to an

536 CHARLES DISMISSES PAET OP HIS EETINUE. [BOOK I.

extreme, when we find him, on waking at three in the morning, swallowing a
bason of capon-broth.

The first attaek of gout was followed by a second, in the month of January,
1557. It was said to have been immediately caused by Charles's vexation at
the news above referred to from Italy. It was not so severe, or of so long
duration as the preceding. As the symptoms grew more favourable, and the

font gradually subsided, the spirits of the sick man ralHed, and he regaled
imself with an omelette of sardines, and some other savoury messes, greatly
to the dismay of the major-domo, who, in his report to the secretary of state,
declares that '_' it was no fault of his ; for any attempt to reason his master
out of his passion for fish was but labour lost."

Charles had now prolonged his stay three months at Jarandilla. MeaYitime
the buildings at Yuste were so nearly completed as to be ready for his recep-
tion. The monks were impatient for his coming. " If the emperor should
not go, after all, they would hang themselves," wrote the secretary, Gaztelu.
" Yet," he says, "for myself, I shall never believe that he will go till I have
seen it."

The fact is, that Charles was detained at Jarandilla by the want of funds
to pay off those of his household who were not to accompany him to Yuste.
Tor this he had required from Valladolid thirty thousand ducats. Weeks
elapsed without the remittance of a single ducat; and the royal exchequer
was reduced so low, that Quixada was obHged to advance a hundred reals
from his own pocket to defray the expenses of the establishment. At length,
twenty-six thousand ducats were sent. But Charles would not move till he
had received the fuU. amount. Yet no blame for this remissness seems to
have been imputed to the regent. The emperor had learned from his own
experience, that it was not always easy for a king of Spain, with the Indies at
his command, to procure the necessary supplies for his own household.

At length the remittances came. Quixada was enabled to discharge aU
arrears. Arrangements were made for sending back such of the retmue as
were not to accompany their master to Yuste ; and the regent was requested
to charter the vessels to convey them to Elanders.

Out of more than a hundred and fifty retainers who had followed Charles
to Jarandilla, between fifty and sixty only were reserved for his establishment
at Yuste. The selection was attended with some difiiculty. _ Several of the
principal Flemings, whom their lord would have retained in his service, were
not disposed to remain with him. Theyhad no mind to give up their native
land and their hopes of court preferment, in order to bury themselves in a con-
vent of monks in the wilds of Estremadura. They knew, moreover, the parsi-
monious temper of their master too well to count upon any remuneration
that would compensate for the sacrifices they must make. " They bear little
love to us," writes Quixada; "it goes to my heart to hear them talk of the
long and faithful services they have rendered, and of the poor return they
have received, or expect to receive, for them."

It fared not much better with those who were to remain with the emperor.
It was Quixada's business to notify them of their salaries, and of the provision
which their master had made for them after his decease. " The same thing
happened in this case," writes the major-domo, "that usually happens. Some
were more contented with what had been done for them than others. No
one was altogether satisfied; and I least of all, that I should find myself in
so disagreeable a business, and be obliged to telTthings to one and another
wliich they liked as little to hear as I to say." Charles, however, might
derive some satisfaction from the reflection that, as mercenary motives were
excluded, those who remained in his service must have done so for the love
they bore him. Indosd, if not d pe-nB^ius, he was a kind master ; and the

BOOK I.] THE EMPEEOH AREIVES AT YUSTE. 537

oourtesy of his maimers, and his considerate regard for his dci^endants, "vrere
sucli as to inspire them with a strong feeling of loyal attachment, indepen-
dently of the reverence in wliich they naturally held him. This was especially
true of the Flemings, in whom the sentiment of loyalty was heightened by
the circumstance that the emperor was their own countryman, — having been
born in Ghent. When, therefore, they assembled round his door, preparatory
to his departure, and listened for the last time to the kind accents that fell
from his lips, there were few among them who were not melted to tears. In
short, — to Dorrow the words of ilignet, — the regret of those who were to be
for ever separated from their master w'as only to be equalled by the sorrow
of those who were to be buried with him in the Jeronymite convent.

On the third of February, at three in the afternoon, the emperor, followed
by his retinue, took leave of the hospitable walls of the lord of Oropesa.
He was carried, as usual, in a horse-litter, his noble host and the trusty
major-domo riding by his side. As he passed through the files of halberdiers
drawn up before the castle, they threw their pikes on the ground, in token
that then* service was ended. I'he cavalcade proceeded across the valley, and
more slowly climbed the slopes of the mountain, shaggy with woods, which
the winter winds had lon^ siuce stripped of their foliage. As they drew
near to Yuste, the sound ol the convent bells riugiug merrily came through
the woods. The brethren were assembled in the church, which was decorated
in the gayest manner, as for a festival; and the gathering shadows of evening
were dispelled by numerous tapers, with which the chapel was illuminated.
As the emperor entered the outer ^ates, the whole body of the monks, forming
a procession, with the prior bearmg a crucifix at their head, came forward,
chanthig the Te Deum, to welcome their royal guest to his new abode.
Charles, alighting from liis litter, and accompanied by the count of Oropesa
and bv Quixada, was boi-ne in a chair by his attendants to the foot ^ of the
high altar. Here he remamed, absorbed in his devotions, till the service was
concluded, and the last tones of the organ had died away. He then cour-
teously received the salutations of the brotherhood, w^ho gathered round him,
addressing a kmd word to each of the monks, as they came forward to kiss
iis hand. The prior, somewhat embarrassed by the august presence iuto
which he was now brought, in a complimentary speech addressed Charles by
the title of '' paternidad" which the good father hastily corrected, as one of
the brethren, in a whisper, suggested the propriety of " magestad."

This ceremony being concluded, the emperor had sufficient strength to go
through the monastery, as well as every part of his own mansion, to examine
the accommodations for his followers, and finally to be carried in his arm-
chair to the little hermitage of Bethlehem, in the woods, at the distance of
two bow-shots from the convent. _He w;as in good spirits, professing himself
pleased with all that he saw- and in this contented frame of mind he took
possession of the sunple residence in which he was to pass the brief remainder
of his days. The monks, in their tuni, were overjoyed at seeing that which
they had* hardly believed would ever come to pass. "Pray Heaven," writes
the secretary, Gaztelu, " that his majesty may continue to endure the friars
as patiently as he does now. This will be no easy matter. They are all an
importunate race ; and the more importunate in proportion to their igno*
ranee, of which there is no lack among the brotherhood of Yuste."

53S DESCRIl'TION OF THE EMPEROE's MANSION, [EOOF II.

BOOK II.

Cnarles's Mansion at Yuste— Furniture and Works of Art — Van Male — Charles's House-
hold and Expenditure — His Way of Life — His Confessor — His Mechanical Pursuits —
His Observance of Eeligious Kites — His Contentment at Yuste.

The emperor's dwelling at Yuste, notwithstanding it had been contrived by
one of the best architects in Spain, had little pretensions to the name of
" palace," by which the monkish chroniclers, iii their reverence for its occu-
pant, are wont to distinguish it. It was a simple structure, of very moderate
dimensions, and stood on the steep side of the mountaiii, with its back against
the southern wall of the monastery. It consisted of only eight rooms, four
on each floor, which were of a uniform size, being twenty- live feet long by
twenty broad. They all opened into corridors, that crossed the building and
terminated in two deep porticos, or galleries, that flanked it on the east and
west. These led out upon terraces, for which the sloping land was eminently
favourable, and which the emperor afterwards embellished with flowers, foun-
tains, and fish-ponds, fed by the streams from the surrounding hills. From
the western terrace a gently^ sloping path, suited to the monarch's feeble
limbs, led to the garden, which spread out below the house. This was of
considerable extent ; and a high wall, which enclosed it, separated it from
the domain of the monks. A small part of it was reserved for raising the
vegetables for the royal table. The remainder was laid out as a pleasure-
ground, with parterres of flowers, and pleasant walks shaded with orange,
citron, and mulberry-trees, that in this sheltered spot, screened from the
rude Minds of the north, grew as luxuriantly as in a more southern latitude.
One of these alleys led to a light and tastefd summer-house, the ruins of
<vhich may be detected by the traveller among the rubbish that covers the
ground at' the present day. Another walk, bordered with cypresses, led to a
gate which opened into the neighbouring forest, where two cows were pas-
tured that supplied milk for the emperor's dairy,

Charles took for his bed-chamber the north-eastern room on the second-
floor, contiguous to the chapel, which, indeed, was the part of the monastery
against which his mansion was erected. The apartment was so situated that
a window, or glass-door, opened from it directly into the chancel, giving him,
while he lay in bed, a complete view of the high altar, and enabling him,
when confined to his chamber, to take part in the service. In the opposite
corner of the building was the cabinet where he passed the day in transacting
business, which still followed him to Yuste, and in receiviug envoys ana
visitors who came to pay their respects to him in his retirement.

The northern chambers must have been dark and di-eary, with no light but
what found its way under the deep porticos that protected the sides of the
dwelling. But on the south the rooms lay open to the sun, and looked plea-
santly down upon the garden. Here the vines, clamberiu^ up the walls, hung
their'coloui-ed tassels around the casements, and the white blossoms of the
orange-trees, as they w^erQ shaken by the breeze, filled the apartment with
delicious odours. Erom the windows the eye of the monarch ranged over a

|K)Oiw U.] FURNITURE, AND W^AJLDBOBE AT YUSTE. 539

nmguificeui prospect. Far above rose the bold peaks of tlie sierra, dark with
its forests ot cliestnut aud oak, while l)elow, for many a league, was spread
out the luxuriant savanna, like a sea of verdure, its gay colours contrasting
with the savage character of the scenery that surrounded it. Charles, who had
an eye for the beautiful in nature, as well as in art, loved to gaze upon this
landscape ; and in the aftemoon he would frequently take ms seat in the
western gallery, when warm with the rays of the declining sun, as it was
sinking in gloiy behind the mountains.

Charles, as we have seen, was careful to guard himself against cold, always
travelling with his stove, and causing chimneys to be built in houses where
he prolonsred his residence. We may be sure that he did not omit this prac-
tice in a place like Yuste, where the dampness of the atmosphere rendered
fireplaces, although little in vogue among the natives, as important as in a
coiaer region. He had chimneys constructed for every room in the house.
Indeed, £e seemed to possess tfie constitution of a salamander, and usually
kept his apartments in a sort of furnace heat, by no means agreeable to his
houwhold. "With all this, and with the further appliances of furs and
wrappings of eider-down, he would often complain, especially when the gout
was on him, that he was chilled to the bone.

The furniture and decorations of Charles's dwelling seem not to have been
altogether in keeping with the plainness of the edifice. Yet Sandoval, the
emperor's historian, assures us that " the apartments were so ill provided in
respect to these, That they looked as if they had been sacked by an enemy, in-
stead of being the residence of a great monarch ; that the walls were hung
with nothing better than Ijlack cloth, as if for mourning, and mth this only
in his bed-chamber ; that he had but one arm-chair, or rather half a chair, so
old and rickety that it would not have fetched four reah at auction; finally,
thai his wardrobe was on the same humble scale, consisting of a single black
suit, and that of poor miality." The same account, with more or less variation,
is echoed by Vera y Figueroa, Valparayso, Strada, and other writers of au-
thority. That Charles had not much to boast of in the way of dress may well
be believed ; for during the latter years of his life, he had been smgularly in-
different to his apparel. " When he rode into the towns," says a contem-
porary, " amidst a brilliant escort of courtiers and cavaUers, the emperor's
persoia was easy to be distinguished, among the crowd, by the plainness of
his attire." In the latter part of his reign, he di-essed' wholly in black.
Roger Ascham, who was admitted to an audience by liim in his privy chamber
some five years before his abdication, says that the emperor " had on a gown
of black taffety, and looked somewhat like the parson at Epurstone." His
natural parshnony came in aid of his taste. It is told of Mm that once, being
overtaken by a storm in the neighbourhood of Naumburg, he took off his new
velvet cap, and remained uncovered while he sent into the town for an old
one. "Poor emperor," thought one of the companv, who tells the anecdote,
" spending tons of gold on his wars, and standmg oareheaded in the rain for
the sake of his velvet bonnet !" The reflection is a natural one ; but not
more natural than the inconsistency which gave rise to it.

That Charles was not altogether unmindful of Ms wearing-apparel in Yuste,
may be inferred from the fact, that his wardrobe contained no less than sixteen
robes of silk and velvet, linca with crmme, or eider-down, or the soft hair of
the Barbary goat. As to the furniture and upholstery of his apartments, how
little reliance is to be placed on the reports so carelessly circulated about
these, may be gathered from a suigle glance at the inventory of his ett'ects,
prepared by Quixada and Gaztelu soon after their master's death. Among
the items we find carpets from Turkey and Alcaraz, canopies of velvet and
other stuifs, hangings of f'uc black cloth, which, since his mother's death, h**

540 CIIAULES'S TAiTSMANS, AMULETS, AND CnARMS. [BOOK IL

had always chosen for his o\vii bedroom ; while the remaining apartments
Avere provided witli no less than twenty-five suits of tapestry, from the looms
of Elanders, richly embroidered with figures of animals and with landscapes.
Instead of the crazy seat that is spoken of, we find, besides a number of sofas
and chairs of carved walnut, half a dozen arm-chairs covered with black velvet,
and two others, of a more elaborate workmanship, for the emperor's especial
use. One of these was garnished with six cushions and a footstool, for the
accommodation of his tender joints, and the other well stuffed and provided
with handles, by which, without annoyance to himself, he could be borne out
upon the terrace, where, in fine weather, he often preferred to take his re-
pasts. The accommodations of his sleeping apartment showed an equal at-
tention to his personal comfort ; for, besides two beds, of different dimensions,
we find such an ample supply of bolsters, pillows, blankets, and bed-gear of
aU descriptions, as would have rejoiced the heart of the most ambitious house-
keeper.

With the article of plate, he was no less generously provided, though we
are assured by the authorities above quoted, that he had but three or four
pieces, and those of the plainest pattern. The service of his oratory was un-
commonly ample, and was mostly of silver-gilt. His table semce was also
of silver, as were the articles for his toilet, the vases, the pitchers, the basins,
and even the humblest utensil in his bed-chamber. The vessels in his apothe-
cary's room were of the same precious material, as well as most of the articles
in the pantry and the kitchen. Among the different pieces of plate we find
some of pure gold, and others especially noted for their curious workman-
ship ; and as this was an age in which the art of working the precious metals
was carried to the highest perfection, we cannot doubt that some of the finest
specimens had come into the emperor's possession. The whole amount of
plate was estimated at between twelve and thirteen thousand ounces in weight.

The emj)eror's inventory makes no great display of jewels. Such trinkets,
worthless in the monastery, he left to those who had still their showy parts to
play on the theatre of the world. He brought with him, however, a number
of richly mounted caskets of gold, silver, and enamel, containing different
articles which still had value in his eyes. Among these were several collars
and badges of .the Golden Pleece, the proud Burgundian order of which the
Spanish sovereign was now the head. But most of these jewelled coffers
were filled with relics or amulets. Among the former was a bit of the true
cross. It afterwards passed as a precious legacy to Philip ; as did also the
contents of another casket, a crucifix which his mother, the Empress Isabella,
had in her hands in the hour of death, and which was afterwards to solace the
last moments of her husband and her son. The other boxes were chiefiy de-
voted to talismans, which the superstition of the times had invested with mar-
vellous properties for warding off disease. There were stones set in gold,
sure styptics for stopping blood ; nine English rings, a specific against cramp •
a blue stone, richly chased, for expelling the gout ; four bezoar stones, in gold
settings, of singular efiicacy in curing the plague ; and other charms of the
same kind. It may surprise one that a person of so strong a mind as Charles
the Eifth should have yielded so far to the popular superstition as to put
faith in such trumpery. That he did so is evident from the care with which
he preserved these amulets, and from his sending one of them — a bezoar stone
— to Ms chamberlain. Van Male, when supposed to be ill of the plague. Yet
this should not be set down so much to superstition as to thecreduiity which
grew out of an ignorance of the real properties of matter, — an ignorance whicli
the emperor shared with the best instructed men of the age, who, in whatever
related to physical science, were constantly betrayed into errors of which a
schoolboy at the present day would be ashamed.

BOOK II.] HIS COLLFXTION OP PICTURES AND LIBR.VIIY. 541

There was one decoration for his dwellini? which the abdicated monarch
brought with him to Yuste, of more worth than his plate or his jewels. This
was a small but choice collection of pictures, some of which rank as the
noblest master-pieces of art. They were variously painted, on canvas, wood,
and stone, mostly of the size of life, and hung in ricli frames round tlie walls
of his apartments. Some were in miniature, and among these were no less
than tiirce of the empress ; while an elaborate altar-piece, displaying pictures
of the Virgin and the Child, was ornamented with gold medalHons that con-
tained likenesses of the different members of the imperial family.

But the gems of the collection were eight paintings from the pencil of
Titian. Charles was a tnie lover of art, and, for a crowned head, no contemp-
tible comioisseur. He fully appreciated the merits of the great Venetian,
had him often near his person at the court, and at all times delighted to do
homage to his genius. There is a story that, on one occasion, the monarch
picked up a pencil which Titian had dropped while painting, and restored it
to him, saying that " so great an artist should be served by an emperor."
This is too like some well attested anecdotes of Charles to be rejected as
altogether improbable. However this may be, he showed his estimation of
the artist by conferring on him the honour of knighthood, and by assigning
him a yearly pension on the revenues of Naples, of two hundred gold crowns.
He may be thought to have done some violence to his nature, moreover, by
never paving him a less sum than eight hundred crowns for each of his por-
traits. I'here were several of himself at Yuste, from the hand of Titian ; one
a full-length, representing the emperor in complete mail. He was painted
many times oy the Venetian artist ; for it was by his pencil that he desired
his likeness should be transmitted to posterity. He had his wish. Some of
these portraits are among the best productions of Italian art ; and the em-
peror hves inunortal on the canvas of Titian, no less than in the pages of history.

There are several pictures also of the empress by the same master; and
others of Philip and the different members of the royal family. But the most
remarkable in the collection, and one that Charles had caused to be painted a
few years before, that he might take it with him to his retreat, was the cele-
brated " Gloria," in which he appears with the empress in the midst of the
heavenly host, and supported by angels, in an attitude of solemn adoration.
This superb picture, which, after the monarch's death, accompanied his re-
mains to the Escorial, is reported by tradition to have been placed over the
freat altar in the church of Yuste. That this was the case is rendered pro-
able by the size of the painting, which made it better suited to a church
than a private apartment. In the space above the altar, Charles could, more-
over, readily see it through the window of his chamber • and, from his sick-
bed, his eyes might still rest on the features of the sainted being who had
been dearest to him on earth.

There were other pictures by different artists, the principal of whom was
*' Master Michael," as he is termed, respecting whose identity historians ai-e
somewhat puzzled. The subjects of his pieces were chiefly of a religious cha-
racter, and celebrated different passages in the life of Our Lord. The whole
collection was one well suited to the condition of the monarch, who had with-
drawn from the tumult of the world to a life of holy meditation. While sur-
rounded by the images of those who were associated in his memory with the
most tender recollections, his religious sensibiHtes were kindled by the sight
of those scenes which commemorated the sorrows and the suflerings of his
Saviour.

Charles had brought but a meagre array of books to adorn his shelves at
Yuste. He was never a great reader. His' life had been too busy to allow
leisure for it. It was his misfortune in his youth not to have acquired a fond«

542 Van male, the emperor's CIIA.MEERL'VIN. [book II.

ness for books,— the best source of enjoyment in prosperity, as it is the un-
failing solace in the hour of trouble. The learned Adrian of Utrecht was,
indeed, his preceptor. But Chievres, the politic Flemish minister, who had
the direction of his affairs, considered letters as belonging to gownsmen, and
that a prince could better bestow his time on manly and chivalrous exercises.
Charles's whole library did not exceed thirty-one volumes. These were
mostly of a religious character, as psalters, missals, breviaries, commentaries
on the Scriptures, and the Meditations of St. Augustine. Of the Consola-
tions of Boethius, — a work once so popular, — there were copies in three
different languages. He had a few scientific works, among them the Alma-
gesta of Ptolemy, which contained whatever was known, or rather not known,
of astronomy, in that day.

One might have expected that history, at least, would have found favour
with the emperor. But he was too busy in furnishing materials for history to
find time for reading it. He possessed a fragment of the unfinished manu-
script of Florian de Ocampo's Cronica de Espana; a work in which the author,
starting from the Deluge, — as usual with the Spanish chronicler in that day, —
was interrupted by death before he had groped his way through the Dark
Ages. A copy of Caesar's Commentaries graced the shelves. But it was in an
Italian translation, as Charles had a very imperfect knowledge of Latin. He
took more pleasure in the Commentaries of his friend the Grand Commander
Avila, which celebrated the wars in Germany in which the emperor played
the principal part.

But the work which had the greatest interest for the monarch was a French
poem, " Le Chevalier Delibere," which had great success in its way. It is
cniefly devoted to celebrating the glories of the house of Bm-gundy, and
especially that prince of fire-eaters, Charles the Bold. The emperor, pleased
with the work, and the more so, no doubt, that it commemorated the achieve-
ments of his own ancestral line, had formerly amused liis leisure hours by
turning it into Spanish. He afterwards employed his chamberlain, WiUiam
Van Male, to revise it, and correct the style for him. Thus purified, it was
handed over to a poet of the court, named Acuiia, who forthwith did it into
set Castihan verse.

Van Male, the chamberlain, who had thus performed the same office for his
master which Voltaire used to intimate he had rendered to Frederic the
Great, by saying he had washed out the king's dirty linen, was a person who
held too important a place in the emperor's household to be passed over in
silence. He was bom in Flanders, of an ancient but decayed famik. He
early followed the wars, and took service under the duke of Alva. But the
profession of arms was not suited to his quiet and studious tastes ; and when
peace came, he quitted the army, with the design of entering the church.
The poor gentleman, however, had no patron to push him forward m the
path of preferment, and, satisiied of this, he gladly embraced an offer, which
he obtained through the interest of Charles's minister, De Praedt, of the post
of chamberlain in the imperial household.

In his new situation Van Male was necessarily brought into close relations
with his master, to whom his various accomplishments enabled him to render
other services than those strictly demanded by his office. When Charles's
fingers were too much crippled by gout to hold the pen, the chamberlain
acted as his secretary, and sometimes wrote his despatches. If the monarch,
oppressed with care, or tormented by bodily pain, was unable to compose him-
self to sleep. Van Male beguiled the time by reading aloud to him ; and
many a weary hour, and often far into the night, did the chamberlain stand by
his master's bedside, engaged in this unenviable office. It was iii such inter-
vals as he could snatch, during this occupation, that he wi-ote those letters

BOOK II.] CHATOES'S HOUSEHOLD. 643

to his friend the minister De Praedt, which have recently been published, and
which throw many gleams of light on the emperor's personal character and
way of life. Li their constant intercourse, Yan Male's guileless character,
liis integrity, and his amiable disposition, won the regard of his master, who
seems to liave honoured him with a greater degi-ee of confidence than anv
other of his household, except Quixaaa. But for all that, and notwithstana-
ing the important services which he received from liim, Charles did little for
the advancement of the chamberlain's fortunes. When the latter announced
that he was about to marry, the emperor looked graciously on the plan, and
favoured him with some prudent counsels in regard to his housekeepmg. The
simple-hearted chamberlain overflowed with gratitude at this mark of conde-
scension, which he does not fail to communicate in his letters to De Praedt.
But these prudent coimsels were all that Charles had to give him. At length
the time came when the emperor could be generous to V an Male, and that
without any cost to himself.

He determined to present him with the manuscript containing the Castilian
version of the " Chevalier Delibere" and to have a large edition of it stnick
off at once. This was to be done at the chamberlain's expense, who would be
abundantly remunerated by the sale of the poem. "It will put five hundred
gold crowns into his pocket," exclaimed a wicked wag, the historian Avila.
" And William is well entitled to them," said the emperor, for he has sweat
hard over the work." But the subject of the royal bounty took a vQxy diffe-
rent view of the matter. Nothing seemed certain to him but the cost, —
especialiv as Charles positively declined to propitiate the public by making
known tlie part which ne had taken in the composition of the work. It was
in vain that the poor chamberlain protested. His master would not be balked
in his generous purpose, and in that same year, 1555, an edition of two thou-
sand copies of tne book appeared from the press of Jean Steeltz, in Antwerp.
Whether the result justified the ominous presages of Van Male, we are not
told. He was one of the Flemings who followed their master to Yuste. He
survived him but two years ; and, as there was no appearance that his affaii's
were in a very flourishing condition at the time of his own death, we have no
reason to supijose that the manuscript of the " Caballero Determimdo" proved
a gold mine to him. Charles had brought with him to Yuste two copies of the
epic, which he probablv regarded with more complacency than that with which
they were viewed by van Male. One was in the original French, the other
in the Castilian version^ and both were ornamented with coloured drawings,
and richlv bound in crunson velvet with clasps and comers of silver, hke
many of tbe other books in the collection.

The imperial household consisted of about fifty persons,— a number not
greater than belonged to the family of many a private gentleman. But the
titles of some of the officials intimated the state maintained in the establish-
ment. There was the major-domo, the almoner, the physician, the apothe-
cary, the secretary, four gentlemen of the chamber, the keeper of the ward-
robe, and the like. There were also cooks, confectioners, fruiterers, bakers,
brewers, gamekeepers, and a number of menials for the inferior offices.
Charles, as we have seen, had been disappointed m not being able to retain
the services of some of the more distinguished Flemings in his monastic re-
treat. Their attacimient to their master was not strong enough to make them
renounce the world, and bury themselves in the solitudes of Yuste. ^A ith the
exception, therefore, of a few men of family and education, who filled the
higher posts, the establishment was made up of iUiterate persons, suited to
the humblest station. Even one of the chamberlains, as we gather from the
emperor's will, was unable either to read or write.
The emperor's family was variously distributed. Quixada, Gaztelu, Moron,

■

542 Van male, the EMPEROE'b chamberlain. [book II.

ness for books,— the best source of enjoyment in prosperity, as it is the un-
failing solace in the hour of trouble. The learned Adrian of Utrecht was,
indeed, his preceptor. But Chievres, the politic Flemish minister, who had
the direction of his affairs, considered letters as belonging to gownsmen, and
that a prince could better bestow his time on manly and chivalrous exercises.
Charles's whole library did not exceed thirty-one voliunes. These were
mostly of a religious character, as psalters, missals, breviaries, commentaries
on the Scriptures, and the Meditations of St. Augustine. Of the Consola-
tions of Boethius, — a work once so popular, — there were copies in three
different languages. He had a few scientific works, among them the Alma-
gesta of Ptolemy, which contained whatever was known, or rather not known,
of astronomy, in that day.

One might have expected that history, at least, would have found favour
with the emperor. But he was too busy in furnishing materials for history to
find time for reading it. He possessed a fragment of the unfinished manu-
script of Elorian de Ocampo's Cronica deEspaha; a work in which the author,
starting from the Deluge, — as usual with the Spanish chronicler in that day, —
was interrupted by death before he had groped his way through the Dark
Ages. A copy of Csesar's Commentaries graced the shelves. But it was in an
Italian translation, as Charles had a very imperfect knowledge of Latin. He
took more pleasure in the Commentaries of his friend the Grand Commander
Avila, which celebrated the wars in Germany in which the emperor played
the principal part.

But the work which had the greatest interest for the monarch was a French
poem, " L£ Chevalier Delihere" wliich had great success in its way. It is
cniefly devoted to celebrating the glories of the house of Burgundy, and
especially that prince of fire-eaters, Charles the Bold. The emperor, pleased
with the work, and the more so, no doubt, that it commemorated the achieve-
ments of his own ancestral line, had formerly amused Ms leisure hours by
turning it into Spanish. He afterwards employed his chamberlain, WilHam
Van Male, to revise it, and correct the style for him. Thus purified, it was
handed over to a poet of the court, named Acuiia, who forthwith did it into
set CastiHan verse.

Yan Male, the chamberlain, who had thus performed the same office for his
master which Voltaire used to intimate he had rendered to Frederic the
Great, bj^ saying he had washed out the king's dirty linen, was a person who
held too important a place in the emperor's household to be passed over in
silence. He was bom in Flanders, of an ancient but decayed family. He
early followed the wars, and took service under the duke of .\lva. But the
profession of arms was not suited to his quiet and studious tastes ; and when
peace came, he quitted the army, with the design of enteriiig the church.
The poor gentleman, however, had no patron to push him forward in the
path of preferment, and, satisfied of this, he gladly embraced an offer, which
he obtained through the interest of Charles's minister, De Praedt, of the post
of chamberlain in the imperial household.

In his new situation Van Male was necessarily brought into close relations
with his master, to whom his various accomplishments enabled him to render
other services than those strictly demanded by his office. When Cliarles's
fingers were too much crippled by gout to hold the pen, the chamberlain
acted as his secretary, and sometimes wrote his despatches. If the monarch,
oppressed with care, or tormented by bodily pain, Avas unable to comjjose him-
self to sleep, Van Male beguiled the time by reading aloud to turn ; and
many a weary hour, and often far into the night, did the chamberlain stand by
his master's bedside, engaged in this unenviable office. It was in such inter-
vals as he could snatch, during this occupation, that he wi-ote those lettera

BOOB II.] CHATxlBs's HOUSEHOLD. 543

to his friend the minister De Praedt, which have recently been publisiied, and
which throw many fleams of light on the emperor's personal character and
way of life. In tiieir constant intercourse, Van Male's guileless character,
liis integrity, and his amiable disposition, won the regard of his master, who
seems to have honoured him with a ffreater degi-ee of confidence than anv
other of liis household^ except Quixaaa. But for all that, and notwithstana-
ing the important services which he received from him, Charles did little for
the advancement of the chamberlain's fortunes. When the latter announced
that he was about to marry, the emperor looked graciously on the plan, and
favoured him with some prudent counsels in regard to his housekeepmg. The
simple-hearted chamberlain overflowed with gratitude at this mark of conde-
scension, which he does not fail to communicate in his letters to De Praedt.
But these prudent coimsels were all that Charles had to give him. At length
the time came when the emperor could be generous to van Male, and that
without any cost to himself.

He determined to present him with the manuscript containing the Castilian
version of the " Chevalier Delibere" and to have a large edition of it stnick
off at once. This was to be done at the chamberlain's expense, who would be
abundantly remunerated by the sale of the poem. "It will put five hundred
gold crowns into his pocket," exclaimed a wicked wag, the historian Avila.
"And William is well entitled to them," said the emperor, for he has sweat
hard over the work." But the subject of the royal bounty took a very diffe-
rent view of the matter. _ Nothing seemed certain to him but the cost, —
especiallv as Charles positively declined to propitiate the public by making
known the part which he had taken in the composition of the work. It was
in vain that the poor chwnberlain protested. His master would not be balked
in his generous purpose, and in that same year, 1555, an edition of two thou-
sand copies of the book appeared from the press of Jean Steeltz, in Antwerp.
Whether the result justified the ominous presages of Van Male, we are not
told. He was one of the Elemings who followed their master to Yuste. He
survived him but two years ; and, as there was no appearance that his affairs
were in a verj' flourishing condition at the time of his own death, we have no
reason to suppose that the manuscript of the " Cahallero Detenninado" proved
a gold mine to him. Charles had brought with him to Yuste two copies of the
epic, which he probably regarded with more complacency than that with which
tnev were viewed by Van Male. One was in the original FrencL the other
in the Castilian version^ and both were ornamented with coloured drawings,
and richly bound in crimson velvet with clasps and comers of silver, like
many of the other books in the collection.

The imperial household consisted of about fifty persons, — a number not
greater than belonged to the family of many a private gentleman. But the
titles of some of the ofticials intimated the state maintained in the establish-
ment. There was the major-domo, the almoner, the physician, the apothe-
cary, the secretarj-, four gentlemen of the chamber, the keeper of the ward-
be, and the like. There were also cooks, confectioners, fruiterers, bakers,
■ewers, gamekeepers, and a number of menials for the inferior offices.
Charles, as we have seen, had been disappointed in not being able to retain
the seiTices of some of the more distinguished Elemings in his monastic re-
treat. Their attachment to their master was not strong enough to make them
renoimce the world, and bury themselves in the solitudes of Yuste. With the
exception, therefore, of a tew men of family and education, who filled the
I higher posts, the establishment was made up of illitei-ate persons, suited to
the humblest station. Even one of the chamberlains, as we gather from the
emperor's will, was unable either to read or write.
The emperor's family was variously distributed. Quixada, Gaztelu, Moron,

■

546 CHAELES'S PASSION TOE TIMEPIECES AND TASTE POU MUSIC. [EOOK II.

moiik: having gone on his own affairs to the neighbouring town of Plascncia,
Charles, as soon as he learned it, sent a courier to order him back. " I would
have you know, brother Juan," said the emperor to him on his I'eturiL " tliat
it is my pleasure you go not hence without my express permission. You are
not to quit me for a single moment." Regla, received the rebuke with pa-
tience, and from that hour never left the monastery so long as his master lived.

After the confessor had assisted Charles ia his morning devotions, the
latter amused hhnself with some occupation,— often of a mechanical kind, for
which he had a taste. His companion at these times was Torriano, the me-
chanician whom we have mentioned as forming one of the household. He
was a native of Cremona, in Italy, a man of singular ingenuity, who after-
wards gained himself a name as an engineer by the construction of the cele-
brated hydraulic works of Toledo. He was well skilled in the manufacture
of timepieces, and, as we have seen, made those elaborate clocks which
adorned the ajDartments at Yuste. He was engaged, at this time, on an astro-
nomical timepiece of a most complicated construction, which required more
than three years for its completion. Charles is said to have observed the
progress of this curious piece of mechanism vdth great iaterest. He had
brought v/ith him to Yuste a number of watches made by the same hand.
Pocket watches were a great rarity at that period, for their invention was of
recent date, going back no farther than the beginning of the century.

Charles had a passion for timepieces, though one might have thought that
he would have cared little for the precise measurement of the hours as they
ghded away in the monotonous routine of the monastery. Tlie difficulty
which he found in adjusting his clocks and watches is said to have drawn from
the monarch a philosophical reflection on the absurdity of his having at-
tempted to bring men to anything like uniformity of belief in matters of laith,
when he could not make any two of his timepieces agree with each other.
But that he never reached the degree of philosophy required for such a reflec-
tion, is abundantly shown by more than one sentiment that fell from his pen,
as well as his lips, during his residence at Yuste.

Charles had a turn for the mathematical sciences ; and_ his inventory con-
tains a number of geometrical and other instruments, wliich he had brought
with him to his retreat. In the catalogue v/e find, moreover, mention made
of no less than thirty-six pairs of spectacles. He had a decided taste, and
as it would seem, talent, for mechanical pursuits, and when in Germany had
invented a carriage for his own accommodation, in which he used to take his
airings in the country. He would often amuse himself with Ton-iano in
making little puppets, — soldiers performing their exercises,_ girls dancing,
with their tambourines, and, if the account be true, wooden birds that coida
fly in and out at the window ! — all which, in the eyes of the simple monks,
savoured of necromancy. But what satisfied them beyond a doubt that Tor-
riano was an adept in the black art was his invention of a hand-miU small
enough to be tucked away in the sleeve of a friar, but of sufficient power to
grind enough meal in a day to feed a man for a week. It may have been
some such piece of witchcraft that furnished an argument for his prosecution
afterwards by the Holy Office.

At ten o'clock some of the emperor's ayudas de cdniara or of his barheros, —
gentlemen of the chamber of the first and second class, — came to assist him
at his toilet. At noon he heard mass. When well enough, he always attended
the service in person, occupying his place in the choir. At other times he
would sit at his chamber-window, which, as we have seen, opened pn the
chancel, where the clear, sonorous tones of his voice might be heard, mingling
with those of the choristers below. He had a great fondness for music, ana
understood the principles of the art. When on the throne, the music of his

BOOK n.J PIETY AND LEAHNING OF HIS CHAPLAINS. 547

chapel was unsurpassed by that of any cluirch in Cliristendom, On his coming
to Yuste, the greatest pains h:ul been taken lo select for him the best voices
from tlie different convents of the order. Ko person was admitted into the
choir except those who regularly belonged to it. On one occasion a pro-
fessional singer from Plasencia having joined in the chant, the unaccustomed
tones soon drew the eniperor's atlention; and the intruder was compelled to
beat a hasty retreat. Charles had a quick ear; and, sometimes, wlien a false
note jarred' on it, he would break into a passion, and salute the offender with
one of those scurrilous epithets which ne had picked up in the wars, and
which were much better suited to a militaiy life than to a monastic.

Immediately after mass he dmed, — an important meal, which occupied much
time with him always, at the convent as well as at the court. At Yuste, he
still retained the unsocial privilege claimed by royalty of eating alone. He
begiuled the time, however, by conversing with some one of his household,
who was present during the rejoast. Sometimes it was Mathys, the physician,
a man of science, but who unfortunately did not possess the authority exer-
cised by Sancho Panza's island-doctor, to order off the unwholesome dishes
from the table. Sometimes it was the learned chamberlain, Van Male, who
was i)resent. Frequently both remained ; and the emperor conversed with
them on different topics, usually those relating to science, — to anything but
politics. The subject often tunied on natural history, of which Charles was
fond, when Pliny wguld, of course, be cited as sovereign authority ; and, if a
passage chanced to puzzle the disputants, the confessor— a good scholar, as
we have seen — v/ould sometimes be sent for to settle the dispute.

After dinner, the monk read to his master some portion of St. Bernard, or
St. Jerome, pausing frequently while his auditor made a nmning commentary'
on the text ; so that the exercise, as the narrator adds, partook rather of the
nature of " a sweet and heavenly communion." At other times, the conversa-
tion turned on lighter and more familiar topics. Then came a short siesta;
after which the emperor repaired to the church, where three days in the week
he listened to a discourse from one of his chaplains. There were three of
these, men selected for their piety and learning from the different houses of
the order. Among the number. Fray Francisco de Villalva was especially
endowed with a rai-e and touching eloquence, which made him one of the
most popular preachers of the day ; and as his discourses found great favour
with Charles, he was selected to deliver the sermon much oftener than either
of his brethren. Occasionally assistance was not refused from other quarters ;
and if any member of the order belonging to some other convent, who had a
gift for preacliing, happened to visit Yuste, he was invited to mount the
pulpit, and display his eloquence before the emperor. Whenever there was
preaching, Charles' made it a point to be present. If prevented by illness, or
by the necessity of preparing despatches for Brussels or Yalladolid, he ex-
pected to hear from his confessor on the same evening a full report of the
discoui'se.

On the other afternoons of the week he listened to SMne portion of the
Scriptures from Fray Bernardo de Salinas, a learned divine, who had received
his degree of doctor from the University of Paris. The part most frequently
selected for tliis exercise was the Epistle to the Romans, which the emperor
preferred, says a monkish historian, as containing the sum and substance of
all the other epistles, and comprehending within itself all the sound doctrines
and dogmas of the church. The remainder of the day he was occupied with
such affairs as claimed his attention. After vespei-s, and before retiring to
rest, he refreshed himself with a supper, in wliich fish, dressed in some rich
and unwholesome way, was pretty sure to make part of the repast.

A religious sentiment, whicj, unhappily, was deeply tinctured with bigotry,

2n2

648 THE EMPEKOIl»S ItEUGIOUS SENTIMENTS. [buoK 11.

lay at the basis of Charles's character, as was shown in the busiest parts of
his life, no less than in his retirement. He had ever paid due attention to
the solemnities of the church, and was anxious to show liis respect for its
ministers. On one occasion, when attending divine service in the chapel of
the University of Alcala, he declined to take the throne which had been pre-
pared for him, and took his seat with the canons, saying, that " he could find
no better place than among such reverend and learned divines." After the
death of tlie empress, he heard a private mass for her every day as soon asx .
he had risen; and when he had despatched the business of the audience*]
chamber, he repaired to the chapel and heard mass there in public. At Yuste,f '
he caused four masses to be performed every day — two for the souls of Ms
parents, another for his wife, and a fourth for himself, at which last he was
always present. _ He seemed desirous on all occasions to manifest the earnest-
ness of his devotion. When one of the brethren, soon after his arrival, abashed
by ^he emperor's presence, hesitated to sprinkle him with the holv water, he
took the hyssop from the monk, and scattered the drojDS liberally over him-
self, saying, " This is the way, father, you must do in future, and Avithout
any fear." On Good Friday, when the convent was assembled to adore the
Cross, Charles appeared with his h9usehold, who applied the scoui'ge briskly
to themselves, as they followed their master. He allowed the monks to take
precedence ; and, though so feeble at the time as to require the support of
his attendants, he insisted on going through all the ceremonies practised by
the brethren, prostrating himself thrice on the ground before saluting the
cross with his lips.

Charles was punctual, as far as his health permitted him, in observing the
fasts and festivals of the church. His infirmities excused him, to some ex-
tent, from the former. In 1554, he had obtained a bull from Julius the Third,
granting him a dispensation for breaking his fast, even on the mornings when
he was to take the sacrament. In the terms of the mstrument, " he was dis-
charged from any scruples of conscience that he might experience for having
done this at any time oefore, with a complete dispensation for the future ;"
and this was granted him, it was said, " not onlj[ on account of the infirm
state of his health, but of the pious zeal with which he had ever stood forth
as the defender of the Catholic faith."

But though Charles was excused by his infirmities from keepm^ the fasts
of the church, he was very strict in enforcing the observance of them by his
people. He was no less so in requiring their attention to other rehgious ordi-
nances. On Ash "Wednesday, when all his household were expected to par-
take of the sacrament, he might be seen standing on the upper steps of the
altar, taking note that no one of the number was absent. He set an edifying
example m his own person. Every Friday in Lent he took his place in the
choir ; and after the ceremonies were finished, and the monks had extinguished
their tapers, the emperor followed their example, and applied the lash with
such good will to his back and shoulders, that it was stained with his blood.
The scourges which he used were preserved in a coffer, among other relics
and precious memorials of his father's piety, by PhiHp the Second, and by
that monarch bequeathed to his imbecile son and successor, PhiHp the Third.

Wliile Charles was thus mmdful of the lugubrious ceremonies of the church,
he did not allow its festivals to pass unheeded. The most interestmg of these,
from its connexion with his personal liistory, was the ftte of St. Matthias.
The twenty-fourth of February, the day of this apostle, was as important an
epoch in Charles's life as the third of September was in that of Oliver Crom-
well. It was the day on which the emperor was born ; that on wliich he won
the ^reat victory of Pavia over his rival, Francis the Fkst ; that on which he
received the imperial crown from the pope at Bologna ; and, finally, it was

BOOK II.] HE MAKES HIS PROFESSIOK AS A MONK. 540

the birthday of his natural son. the famous John of Austria. So fruitful an
anniversary could not be allowed to pass unheeded by the monarch, who ever
held his patron, St. Matthias, in the neatest honour. The pope had granted
an indidgence to aU who should be in the same place with tne emperor on
that dav, or even where his remains were, after death.

Charles continued to observe iXxcftte of St. Matthias at Yuste with the same
solemnity, if not with the same pomp, as when upon the throne. On the morn-
ing of that day he appeared in the chapel richly attired, with the superb collar
of the Golden Tieece nangin^ from his neck. He was attended bv nis house-
hold, all dressed in their gala suits for the occasion. After high mass had
been performed. Charles approached the altar, and, kneeling down, returned
thanks to the Almighty for the countless blessmgs that had been heaped on
his head. He then laid his gift reverently on the altar, consisting of as many
gold pieces as he had numbered years of his life. After this, came a sermon
from Father Yiilalva. But the church was unable to contain half of those
who had come to celebrate the jubilee. They had gathered from forty leagues
round to profit by the indulgence, and to see the great emperor who* had ex-
changed the pomps of the world for a life of penitence and prayer in the soli-
tudes of Estremadura. An altar was raised m the open fields, not far from
the garden gate, where mass was performed ; and while the discourse was
going on in the neighbouring church, another was delivered from a nulpit
under the shadows of the famous walnut-tree of Yuste, which still tnrows
its gigantic aims over the spot where the multitudes gathered to celebrate
the festival of St. Matthias.

Another anniversary, which derives its interest from its connexion with the
emperor's cloister life, is worthy of notice. This was the third of I^ebruary,
St. Bias's day, the date of his arrival in Yuste. A singular circumstance gave
a peculiar character to the celebration of it. When Charles had nearly com-
pleted a year of his residence, the master of the novices told Moron, the
keeper of the wardrobe, that he must learn from the emperor whether he was
contented with his way of life, and was vriUing to make his profession ; for,
after the year had passed, he would not be allowed, by the rules of the order,
to leave the convent. The Jeronymite, as the chronicler tells us, hardly ex-
pected that this would be repoi-ted to the emperor ; but the latter, when it
was repeated by Moron, took it in good part, and, though labouring at that
time under an attack of the gout, determined to enter into the humour of
the thing. He announced, accordingly, that he was well content with the
convent, and, if the brethren were contented with him, they might consider
him as having professed from that hour.

He then inquired what ceremonies were necessary on the occasion. He
was told the first step was to examine into the lineage of the candidate, and
see if he were of the " blue blood," — sangre azid, — that is, without taint of
Moorish or Jewish ancestry. The pedigree of his majesty made such an in-
quiry in his case superfluous. But the act of profession required to be cele-
brated with certain solemnities that could not so well be dispensed with.
Charles gave orders that they should be punctually observed. Accordingly,
on St. Bias's day, mass was celebrated in the chapel, a procession was formed
of all the brethren, Te Deim was chanted, and a sermon was pronoimced by
the emperor's favourite preacher, who told his hearers "how much more
glorious it was to beconve the servant of Christ, poor and lowlv as such a con-
dition might be. than to be lord of the whole world." The religious services
were coucludea by a scene of a more festive character, as was usual when
a new member was admitted into the fraternity. A table was spread iu the
refectory, sumptuously provided at the emperor's expense, and garnished with
game and other dainties, which had been sent for the occasion from the

550 CHAHLES'S HEALTH VISIBLY IMPEOVES. [bOOK II.

neighbouring villages. The Elemings from Cuacos, with their wives, dressed
in their holiday apparel, came to partake of the good cheer with the Jerony-
mite brethren ; and when the banquet was ended, the latter, who had been
long pent up within the walls of the monastery, were permitted to go forth,
and spend tlie remainder of the day iu rambhng among the forests on the
slopes of the mountain.

The accession of the imperial neophyte to their body was a proud day for the
community of Yuste. They seem to have had no doubt of the sincerity of the
emperor's profession. At least, they intimated as much by opening a new
register, bearing the names of the professed, at the head of which was the
name of Charles, written with his own hand. " Whether it was by way of
jest, or spiritual pastime, or however one may call it, so it was," says the
chronicler of the order. Beneath the royal autograph was inscribed the fol-
lowing sentence : " Dedicated to the eternal memory of this illustrious and
puissant monarch, m order that the future members of this house may glorify
themselves on seeing their own names inscribed beneath the name of this
great prince." The volume, thus royally illustrated, was cherished with pious
care by the community till the beginning of tlie present century, when in 1809
the monastery of Yuste was sacked by the Erench, and the archives, like
everything else within its walls, were converted into a heap of ruins.

Charles was sufficiently affable in his deportment towards the Jeronymites.
He knew them all by name, and occasionally conversed with them. Indeed,
he showed them a degree of kindness, and even consideration, that was incom-
prehensible to his household, especially the Elemings,_ whose feelings seem
to have been anything but those of deference for the friars. On one occasion
he bestowed a gratuity on the monks, which led to a remonstrance from the
board of visitors on their annual inspection of the convent. " The order,"
they said, " supplied the brethren with all that was necessary for the perform-
ance of their duties. His majesty's bounty would only serve to make them
listless and lazy, fond of gormandizing and sleeping ; and God grant that the
mischief might extend no farther !" Charles admitted the reasonableness of
the objections, and promised to refrain from such indiscreet generosity for
the future.

Once during his residence at Yuste he condescended to dine with the
brethren in the refectory. He sat at a separate table, and Van Male acted
as his carver. But Charles's dainty appetite had been too long accustomed
to the savoury messes of his own kitchen to relish the simple fare of the con-
vent. He had made but slender progress in the repast, when he suddenly
rose and withdrew. Not to mortify his hosts, however, he told them, as he
left, to set aside the untasted dishes for him, adding that " he should not yet
hold them quits." But, for all this, he never dined with them again ; still
less did he ever return the compliment by asking any of them to dine with
him. The Jeronymites were not long in finding that, notwithstanding his
late act of profession. Brother Charles was not a ^yhit more of _ a monk than
when he first took up his residence at Yuste. Their prior having died, they
besought the emperor to obtain from the general of the society permission for
them to elect a new prior. But Charles testily answered, that " he would not
be pestered with their affairs, or with those of their order either."

During the first months, indeed the greater part of the first year 9f the em-
peror's cloister life, his health visibly improved, — the consequence, it may be,
of change of clunate and occupations. At least, such is the view taken of it
bv the Jeronymite historian, who tells us that the _" equable temperatm-e of
Yuste, where the monarch's senses were regaled with the delicious fragrance
of the groves and gardens, and above all, the holy calm of his present occu-
pations, far from the feverish tunnoil of the world, diffused a sweet serenity

bue

BOOK II.j DISCONTENT OF HIS HOUSEHOLD. 661

over his sotil, and gave new vigour to his constitution." From whatever
cause the favourable change in nis health and spirits proceeded, it was the
subject of frequeut remark anioug the members of his family. "The em-
peror," writes Gaztelu to the secretary Vazquez, " is so well, and in such
good condition, that you would hardly know him." This was in June. In
the following August, Quixada, in a letter to tlie same functionary, notices
" excellent health of his master, who eats and sleeps well, and with the
eptiou of an occasional twinge of gout in the fingers and shoulder, has

ithmg to complain of. He enjoys his present quiet hfe, has no desire to ex-
change it for any other, and, in short, is the most contented man in the
world."

Unfortunately, the contentment of the monarch was not shared by his
liousehold. The major-domo, in particular, gave vent to his ill-humour in
more than one petulant letter to Vazc[uez, to whom he unbosomed himself in
the fulness of his heart, "If his majesty," he writes, "wanted solitude, by

my faith he has got it This is the most wretched and lonely Hfe I

ever passed ; fit only for those who desii'e to give up the world and turn
friars, of which number I am not one. But, God willing, I will make some
change before long."

Shortly after, he obtained a furlough from the emperor, with leave to pay a
visit to his family at ViUagarcia. Overjoyed, he wrote at once to Vazquez,
" I shall not retuni in a huny, I assure you, to eat truffles and asparagus in
Estremadura !" But it was not Quixada's destiny to live separate from his
master. The latter, during the major-domo's absence, employed one of the
monks as his commissary, to cater for the palace. But the good father knew
but httie of the affairs of this world, and proved so incompetent to liis office,
that Charles caused a despatch to be sent forthwith to his old seiTant, de-
siring his instant return. " I believe that his majesty," wrote Gaztelu, with
great satisfaction, " is now convmced that the monks are not fit to be em-
ployed in anything whatever." Quixada was requested to brmg his family
along with him, and take up his residence pennanentiy at Cuacos.

The idea of thus removing all his family to Yuste, as to a peiinanent abode,
was a bitter piU to the major-domo. It was a severe trial to his loyalty ; but
in the end his attachment to his master prevailed, and he made his prepara-
tions for obeying him, though, it must be admitted, with a very baa grace.
On his retuni, he poured forth his complaints into the ear of his friend
Vazquez. " 1 should say nothing of the inconvenience of leaving my own
quarters, were- it not that I am transferred to a spot where there is nothmg to
eat, no house fit to live in, and where my days are spent in ruiming to and
from the monastery ; and this in all weathers, in heat and cold, in rain and
snow; it is aU one. I feel cliiefly, liowever," he adds, "for my wife,— to be
thus brought from her pleasant residence at ViUagarcia to this dreary solitude,
where there are no amusements or enjoyments ot any kind. But liis majesty,"
he concludes, "will be served by it; so I must acquiesce, though much
against my will, I assure you ; and especially when I consider that my past
services have not been so well requited that i should feel under any obhgation
to render new ones." Tliis amiable epistle is dated "the thirtieth of August,
from Yuste, — woe betide him who built it !" Gaztelu chimes in with the same
tune, though in a more subdued key. " Many of the Flemings," he wTites,
" complain, I am told, of their way of life, and none are contented. The worst
is, there is good reason for this. But breathe it to no one," adds the cautious
secretary. " His majesty " he continues, " is in excellent condition, growing
fresher and fatter every day. There is not one of the household to compare
with him in health. A.s for* the rest of us. indeed, we are all on the sick list."

It may well be imagined that the household were careful not to betray their

552 TBANQUILLITY Of CHAELES S ^PTAY Or LIFE. [BOOK H.

discontent to their master. If they did, he gave little heed to it. He had not
that light and fickle temper which would readily render him disgusted with
his own plans. He had reached at last the quiet haven he had so long sighed
for; and now that he was relieved from the. burden of sovereignty, wliich of
late years had bowed him to the earth, his weary spirit welcomed the repose
which it found m the shades of Yuste. Not that he had lost his interest in
public affairs. Par from this, as we shall soon see, his advice in respect to
them — the precious fruit of his la^ge experience — was as freely given as it was
asked. But it was only as an adviser, not as an actor, that he now appeared ;
and it was a great thing to be discharged from the weaving responsiblity
which had robbed him of his rest by night, and turned his hairs grey before
the prime of manhood.

It is not strange that both health and spirits should have improved under
the influence of his present regular way of life. Not that this was in aU re-
spects the most judicious possible. The free indulgence of his appetite, which
had been his besetting sin in the world, stiU clung to him in the cloister ; and
his friends, with indiscreet kindness, continued to tempt him by presents of
pernicious dainties at Yuste, in the same manner as they had done at Jaran-
diUa. But the evil consequences were counteracted, to a considerable extent,
by the circumstances of his present position. In the fine weather of the
spring and summer, he was much in the open aii*. He took pleasure ia
pruning his young trees, and tending his plants. He was fond of a garden ;
and we are indebted to him, it is said, for the introduction into Europe of
the little garden pink, which he brought back from his African campaigns,
and which will continue to bloom when the wreath of the conqueror shall
have faded and been forgotten. He found occupation for his leisure in build-
ing the terrace already noticed, on a level with the second floor of his man-
sion, planting it with orange-trees, and ornamenting it with flowers and foun-
tains, that filled the air with a cool and delicious fragrance.

In early days Charles had been passionately fond of field-sports. He would
follow the chase with such eagerness as to leave his attendants far behind,
and sometimes to lose himself amon^ the mountains. When he found his
way back, led by some peasant guide late in the evening, lights were in the
windows of all the houses, and the bells were ringing to call the people to-
gether to go in search of him. These were the days when he was accounted
"the most perfect cavalier of his time;" when a soldier-chronicler could
lament that " the best light-horseman in the world was spoiled by Charles's
haying been born to a throne." It was in these days that he carried o& the
prizes at the Moorish tilt of reeds, and at the Christian tourney ; when, it \yas
said, he even coveted the honours of the matador, and, with the national spirit
of the old Castilian, would descend into the arena, and contend against the
bull. But all this was changed ; and many a year had passed since the emperor
had mounted his war-horse, or followed the chase iu the German forests, or
the wild passes of the Alpuxarras. In place of his noble stud, he had brought
with him to Yuste only a one-eyed pony and a mule. Once only did he ven-
ture into the saddle, when he was seized with a giddiness which compelled
him hastily to dismount. The poor emperor was as little able to ride as to
walk. Henceforth, his only mode of conveyance, when he went beyond the
boundaries of the garden, was the litter or the arm-chair — most frequently
the latter,— borne oy his attendants. Yet he would still occasionally endea-
vour to revive the recollections of his sportiug days by an excursion into the
neighbouring woods, where he would do some execution on such birds as
came withiu the range of his fowling-piece. Gaztelu, in a letter dated the
fifth of June, mentions, with great satisfaction, that his master had been strong
enough to rise fi-om his seat witliout aid, and shoot two pigeons with his
arquebuse-

BOOK m.] ERRONEOUS OPINIONS RESPECTING THE EMPEROR. 553

The tranquillity of Charles's present way of life suited his taste so well,
that he made arrangemeuts not only for embellishiug his house, but for ex-
tending it, and rendering it more comfortable as a permanent residence. A
stove of curious construction was ordered to be sent from Quixada's place at
Villagarcia, whither it had been brought from Inlanders. A suit of tapestry
from the Flemish looms, displaying tne emperor's campaign against Tunis,
which still adonis the queen's palace at Madrid, was also received at Yuste.
Charles further amused himself with designs for an oratorv, as well as with a
more extended plan for a new building, wnich he intended for the reception
of Philip when he should return to Spain. He looked forward with the
greatest interest to a visit from his son, and talked to the monks of the ar-
rangements that it would be necessary to make for the king's accommodation.
Philip did indeed make his visit to the convent ; but not till twelve years had
passed away, when his father had lon^ since gone to his rest, and, after '' life's
htful fever," lay quietly sleeping in the vaults of Yuste.

BOOK ni.

Erroneous Opinions respecting Charles — His Interest in Public AfiFairs — Lnis de Avila —
Petty Annoyances — Visit of Francisco Borja — Charles's Memoirs of Himself — Visit of
his Sisters to Yuste — Death of Queen Eleanor — Charles's Resignation of the Imperial
Title— His Zeal for the Faith.

It has been a commonly received opinion that Charles the Pifth, on entering
his monastic retreat, conformed so far to the spirit of the place as to abjure
all connexion with temporal concerns, and to devote himself entirely to the
great work of his own sjuvation. This opinion found favour with the ancient
chroniclers, who, as we have intimated, thought by it to enhance the value of
the sacrifice made by a monarch who could descend from the proudest pin-
nacle of earthly grandeur to bury liimseK in a convent. "He was as com-
pletely withdrawn from the business of the kingdom and the concerns of the
govei-nment," says one liistorian, "as if he had never taken part in them ;" —

so entirely abstracted in his solitude," says another contemporary', " that
neither the arrival of the treasures brought in his fleets from the Indies, nor
the sound of arms, amidst which his Me had been hitherto passed, haci any
power to disturb his tranquillity." Yet the same writer teUs us that, on one
occasion, the minister Grauvelle having remarked to Philip the Second that
it was tne amiiversary of the day on which his father had abdicated the go-
veiTiment, " True," replied the king, " and the anniversary also of the day on
which he repented having done so." The incorrectness of these statements
is proved by the letters of Charles himself, as well as by those of his house-
nold, from the convent of Yuste.

A\ hen the monarch took up his abode among the Jeronvmites, the affairs
of Philip wore a gloomy and most disheartening aspect. VVe have seen, in a
foiTOcr chapter, the disgust expressed by Charles at the truce which the duke
of Alva, when in the lull tide of his victorious career, had made with the
Roman pontiff, and which, the emperor predicted, would onlv sen-e to give
breathing-time to the enemy, and enable him to gather strength to renew the
struggle. The Prench king had profited by it to push his army across the
Alps, under the command of the duke of Guise, whose brilliant defence of

554 CHAULES'S INTEREST IN PUBLIC APFAIES. [BOOK lEU

Metz, some years previous, against the best troops of Spain, witli the em-
peror at their head, had estaolished his military reputation. This gallant
chieftain, descending towards the south, after a junction with the papal
troops, crossed the frontiers of Naples, at the head of his army, and fell with
pitiless fury on the flourishing towns and hamlets that lay along the borders.
A considerable force, at the same time, under Coligni, governor" of Picardy,
menaced Flanders with invasion on the west ; while Solyman the Magnificent
was invited to co-operate with the two Christian powers, and make a descent
on the Spanish settlements on the Mediterranean. With the tempest thus
gathering around him from every quarter, the young and inexperienced Philip
naturally turned for support to the parent by whose sagacious counsels he had
been guided through the whole of his life. He despatched his confidential
minister, Ruy Gomez, afterwards prince of Eboli, to Yuste, with instructions
to obtain from the emperor his advice as to the best mode of conductirig the
war. He was to soHcit him in the most humble manner, and to urge hun
with every argument he could think of, not merely to give his advice, but to
leave the monastery for a time, and take up his residence in some place
suited to his health, wliere, by his personal presence and authority, he might
assume the direction of affairs. Such a step could not fail to insure success.
The mere report of it would strike terror into the enemies of Spain, and dis-
concert their measures.

Ruy Gomez reached the convent on the twenty-third day of March, 1557.
He was graciously received by Charles, who paid him the extraordinary com-
pliment of ordering Quixada to prepare an apartment for him in the palace.
Two days the accomplished envoy of Philip remained at Yuste ; and five
hours of each day he passed in the cabinet of the emperor, who thus had full
opportunity of communicating his own views in regard to the state of affairs,
and the best mode of arranging the plan of the campaign. E.uy Gomez had
been directed to state to Charles the embarrassments under which Philip
laboured from the want of funds ; and as the attention of the latter was neces-
sarily engaged by the operations in the field, the emperor was to be urged,
with all the address of which the envoy was capable, to take charge of tlie
financial department himself, to devise the means for raisiag the necessary
supplies, and to superintend their punctual remittance to the seat of war.

Charles had no mind to leave the quiet haven where he was now moored,
and throw himself again on the troubled sea of pohtical hfe. But he renewed
a promise, which he had already made by letter to his son, to aid him bv
word and deed, as far as was in his power in his retirement. He engaged,
moreover, to do all that he could in the way of providing him with money,
" fearing," as he afterwards wrote, " he could be of little use to him in any
other way." This, the most burdensome duty of goveniment, was particu-
larly so in an age when the resources of a country were so little understood,
and when, in default of any sure and well-arranged system of taxation, it was
usual to resort to benevolences, monopolies, loans at exorbitant interest, aud
other temporary shifts, that entailed a heritage of woe on the nation. Of this
Philip the Second himself lived long enough to have dismal experience. That
the emperor should have taken charge, to any extent, of this department, is
a sufficient refutation of those idle calumnies wliich accuse the son of parsi-
mony in his dealings with his father ; since it was not Philip who was to
supply Charles with funds, but Charles who was to supply Philip.

The emperor, faithful to his engagements, caused letters to be wiitten —
occasionally, when his fingers were in condition for it, writing with his own
hand — to his daughter, the regent, and to her secretaiy, Vazquez. In these
he indicated the places to be defended, the troops to be raised, and the best
mode of providing the funds. He especially recommended a benevolence from

BOOK m.] HE DIRECTS THE POLICY OF THE COURT. 555

the clergy, and made application himself to some of the irreat dignitaries of
the church. By these means cuusidcrable sums were raiseci. and remittances,
under his vigorous dii'ectiou, were forthwith made to the clukc of Alva, who
was thus enabled to prosecute the Italian campaign with vigour. In this way
did Charles, even in his retirement, render etfectual service to his son. His
counsels may be said to have directed the policy of the regent's court at Val-
ladolid ; and the despatches from Yuste were held in much the same deference
as the edicts which had fonnerly issued from the imperial cabinet.

In his financial concerns, Charles experienced annovance from a quarter
whence he had little expected it. It wfis requh-ed that ail the buUion brought
home in the India fleets, whether on public or private account, should be
lodged in the keeping of the Casa de la Contratacion, or Board of Trade, at
Sevdle. There it was duly registered ; and the government had been in the
habit of applying it to its own use, when the exigencies of the state seemed to
require it, giving bonds to the owners by way of security for its repayment.
At the present time, the amount of gold registered was no less than live
millions of ducats, — an important fund, on which Philip relied for meeting
the expenses of the war. But the merchants of Seville, to whom a great part
of the treasure belonged, naturally preferring their gold to government paper,
had, with the collusion of some of the officers of the Board of IVade, secretly
transferred the bullion from the vaults where it w^as lodged to theii- own
quarters. When Philip was made acquainted with this high-handed proceed-
ing, his perplexity was extreme ; and he gave vent to his indignation in a
letter to Joanna, in which he denounced the parties implicated as enemies to
their country, who " not only made war on the property of their sovereign,
but on his honour and reputation."

But Philip's indignation was light in comparison with the wrath of his
father ; for habit had enabled him to put a stronger curb on the indulgence
of it. Charles regarded the transaction with the eye of a despotic prince,
who sees only one side in a case where the government is a party ; and he
held the merchants who had thus taken possession of their property as so
many knaves who had robbed the exchequer. The officers who had connived
at it he held as offenders of a still deeper die. " Were it not for my iulirmi-
ties," he WTites to Joanna, " I would go to Seville myself, find out the authors
of this villany, and bring them to a speedy reckoning." In a letter to the
secretary Vazquez, he says, "The culprits should be arrested, put in irons,
and removed, under a strong guard, to Simancas, where they should be thrown
into a dungeon, and their eifects sequestrated, until the king's pleasui-e can
be known." " Indeed," writes his secretary, Gaztelu, in another letter of
the same date, such is the emperor's indignation, and such are the violent
and bloodthirsty expressions he commands me to use, that you will pardon
me if my language is not so temperate as it might be."

The stem mandates were obeyed. The guilty functionaries were deposed
from their offices, and imprisoned in Sunancas, v/here one of their number
perished miserablv from the injuries he suffered on the rack. But the gold
was not recoverea. Charles, however, shrewdly provided against the recur-
rence of the proceeding, by ordering a vessel at once to be despatched to the
Azores, where it woula meet the India fleet on its retura, and measures
might be arranged for defeatuig any attempt of the merchants to recover
their gold on its arrival at Seville.

Cheering news now arrived irom the seat of war. Tidings were brought to
Yuste that the EnsHsh had at length made common cause with Spain. The
news, writes Gaztelu to the secretaiy Vazquez, gave infinite pleasure to his
majesty, " who," he adds in the next sentence, " was no less dehghted with
the seeds you sent him, as he will now have plenty of melons, of which he is

65G YUSTE THE CENTRE OF POLITICAL MOVEMENT. [BOOK III.

very fond, for his table next summer." Every new contribution to the ira-

Eerial bill of fare, whether in the form of fruit or flesh, was sure to receive
onourable mention in the despatches from Yuste.

Soon after came the welcome intelligence of the victory of St. Quentin,
where the constable Montmorency was made prisoner, and the flower of the
Trench chivalry fell on the field of battle. The tidings caused a great sensation
in the imperial hpusehold, and the joy of Charles was unbounded. He looked
on it as an auspicious augury for the beginning of Philip's reign, like that
great victory ot Pavia which had heralded in his own. He rewarded the
messenger who brought the news with sixty gold ducats and a chain of equal
value. He caused processions to be formed by the monks, masses to be said
in the chapel, and thanks to be offered up to Heaven for the glorious event.
The only thing that damped his joy was the circumstance of his son's absence
from the fight. Philip had lamented this himself, in a letter to his father.
He coidd not lament it more sincerely than Charles did. " He cannot be con-
soled," wrote Quixada, "for the king's absence on that day;" — and the writer
forthwith proceeds to curse the English as the cause of it. Charles loved
his son too tenderly, or was too politic, to throw the blame upon him. Yet
he must have felt that, had he been in Philip's place, no power on earth
would have been strong enough to keep him from the field where so much
glory was to be won. But he soon turned from the victory to the fruits of
it. "His majesty," writes Quixada, "desires exceedingly to know what
course his son has taken since the battle. He is very impatient on this point,
and reckons that he must already be under the walls of Paris." He judged
of Philip's temper by his own. But there was a wide difference between
them. Charles, bold and determined, would have pressed on towards the
capital, while the enemy was stunned by the blow he had received. But
Philip was sluggish in his movements. He was of a more cautious nature.
Charles counted the chances of success. Philip calculated those of failure.
He called to mind his father's invasion of Prance and his disastrous retreat ;
when the Spaniards, it was tauntingly said, " marched into the country feast-
ing on turkeys, but were glad to escape from it feeding on roots." instead
of striking into the interior, therefore, Philip took the more prudent course
of besieging the fortified places in the _neighbourh9od. _ In his operations,
his father was of no small assistance to him, by exerting his authority, and by
writing in the most pressing terms to the regent, to lose no time in making
the remittances to the king, so essential to the success of the campaign.

Yuste now became the centre of political movement. Couriers were con-
stantly passing between that place and the courts of Brussels and Valladolid.
Envoys arrived at the convent, not only from those courts, but from foreign
princes, to conduct negotiations with Charles in person. It came soon to be
understood that the abdicated monarch was not immured in the cell of a
monk, and that his will still exercised a potent influence on public affairs.
Many were the pilgrimages now made to Yuste by suitors, who came to re-
quest his good offices in their behalf, or by parties who sought redress of
grievances, or by the great lords, who came simply to pay their homage to
their former master. Among the latter was the old count of Ureiia, who
came with such a throng of servants and horses that Quixada found it no
easy matter to provide for him. On the major-domo devolved all the duties
of the commissariat, and, as no one lodged at Yuste, he was compelled to find
accommodations for the visitors at Cuacos. " I am obliged to play the land-
lord to every one who comes here," he complains in one of his letters, "and
to act as the agent of every man in Spaiji." " Night never comes," he else-
where laments, "without my feet aching more than I can bear, and there is
not a day in which I am not on my legs at least half a dozen hours, waiting

BOOK III.] CUABUES'S VISITORS AT YUSTE. 557

on the emperor,— to saj- nothing of the time spent in running here and there
in the way of my vocation." When Charles's health permitted it, and he was
in a cheerful mood, lie usually gave a gracious reception to his visitors. At
other times he would refuse to see them, as was the case with the admiral
of Aragou, who came to interest the emperor in his suit against the grand-
master of the order of Montesa. On these occasions, he would turn them
over to his major-domo, or refer them at once, for the settlement of their
affairs, to the court of Brussels or Valladolid. "It he had given audience to
all who came there," exclaims a Jeronymite chronicler then resident at the
convent, " he would have turned Yuste itself into a court,"

There was one class of applicants who seemed to have a peculiar claim on
his attention,— the widows ot the soldiers w^ho had served under his baimer
in Africa and in Europe. The sight of these poor women, which called to
mind the day of his military renown, seems to have touched the heart of the
old campaigner; and it was rare that their business did not speed as favour-
ably as they could have desired.

Among the visitors, two are deserving of particular notice from their per-
sonal relations with the emperor. One of these was Sepulveda, who, after
officiating as his chaplam, had been appointed by Charles to the post of na-
tional historiographer. He was a man of learning,' and preferred to write his
works in the Latm tongue, thinking probably, with the English poet, that

" Those who lasting marble seek
Must carve in Latin or in Greek."

He was distinguished, indeed, by such a fluent elegance of style, that he re-
ceived the name of the Spanish Livy. Charles h^d the historian in great
esteem, in proof of which, as Sepulveda was getting old, the monarch ordered
particular care to be taken that no harm should come to his manuscript, in
case of its author's death before it had been put to the press.

The emperor felt a solicitude, not unnatural in one who had performed so
great achievements, as to the manner in which thev might be presented on
the page of history. Eew writers who had hitherto ^ealt with his character
had satisfied him. Two of the piincipal, Sleidau and Paulo Giovio, he used
to call " his two liars," — the one because of his slanders, the other JDccause
of his flattery. He looked to Sepulveda to do liim justice; to do for him with
his pen what Titian had done for him with his pencil,— exliibit him in his
true proportions, and in a permanent form, to the eye of posterity. The his-
torian had been lately raised to the dignity of arch-priest of Ledesma. He
had now come, after an absence of many years in Germany, to take possession
of his benefice, and lay his bones in his native land. On his journey through
the country, he deviated from his route, in order to pay his respects to his
ancient lora. He was kindly received by Charles, and, during the few days
he passed at Yuste, Sepulveda, who seems at that time to havelieen employed
on the emperor's biography, had the means of gathering some important in-
formation from the subject of his narrative, when, however, he proposed
to read to Charles what he had already written, the monarch refused to listen
to it. " I wiU neither hear nor read," said he, "what people have written of
me. Others may do this, after I am gone. But if you wisli for information
on any pomt, you have only to ask, and I will willingly give it."

How free he was from that petty vanity which, like a flaw in some noble
piece of statuary, sometimes disfigures even the fairest character, may be seen^
also, by his remarks to the historian Avila. That accomplished courtier ana
soldier, who, after fightmg by his master's side in his wars against the German
protestants, had spread the fame of his exploits over Christendom by his

558 XEGLECT OF THE EMPEROR BY PHILIP. [BOOK III.

elegant Commentaries, resided, as we have already seen, in the city of Pla-
sencia. Here the weary statesman, withdrawn from public affairs, was pass-
ing the evening of his days in elegant retirement, embellishing his residence
with costly works of art, and amusmg his leisure with the composition of an
historical work on the emperor's campaigns in Africa, which was to form a
counterpa,rt to liis previous Commentaries. The work, much commended bj
those critics of the time who had access to it, has met with a fate by no means
rare in Spain, and still remains m manuscript. As Plasencia was but a few
leagues from Yuste, the grand-commander made frequent visits to the convent,
where he was sure to received a gracious welcome fi:om the emperor. Avila's
spendid mansion in Plasencia was adorned with more than one picture com-
memorating the deeds of his favourate hero. Among other subjects was the
Battle of lienti, painted in fresco on one of the ceilings. This was a bloody
fight, attended with so doubtful an issue, that both sides claimed the victory.
Avila, however, had no doubts on the matter, and, like a true-hearted hidalgo,
had caused the Prench to be represented as put to a shameful rout, and
flying off the field, in all directions, before the conquering Spaniards. This
did not altogether please the emperor, who, when Avila had described the
picture to him, remarked that "it was not correct; that, far from being
routed, the Prench had made a well-ordered retreat; and that the artist
must go over his work agaia, and make it conformable to truth."

There was no one of the household at Yuste who took so deep an interest
in the progress of the campaign then going on in Picardy, as Charles himself.
His first question on waking in the morning, was whether anything new haa
been received from the seat of war. He listened to the despatches with great
attention, inquiring whether there was nothing further, and frequently causing
them to be read to him more than once. He was always desirous to get let-
ters from his son, and would sometimes complain that they were too short.
Indeed, Philip, however attentive he may have been to the wishes and wants
of his father m other respects, cannot be acquitted of a degree of_ negligence
amounting almost to ingratitude, m not furnishing him with the information
which he so much coveted in respect to the_ course of public events. _ The
letters which he wrote to his father while in Yuste did not exceed six in
number. Philip, on the throne, did not find so much time for writing letters,
as his father, at Yuste, did for reading them.

The great interest, and indeed the active part, which Charles took in the
management of affairs, led to the report that he was about to leave the con-
vent and assume the command of the anny in Navarre. He seems to have
taken no pains to contradict the rumour, thinking, perhaps, Avith Philip, that
such an expectation might be of service to the cause. That it imposed on
Avila seems prettv evident from a letter of his, dated the thirteenth of August,
to the secretary Vazquez. "I have left Brother C/iai-les/'he writes, "in a
state of perfect tranquillity, and with full confidence in his strength. He
thinks he has quite enough to enable him to leave the convent. Since I was
there things may have changed ; but there is nothing of wliich i do not believe
him capable, from the love he bears his son, as well as from his courageous
heart and his early habits, for he has been nourished in war, as the salaman-
der, they say, is bred in the fire," Quixada was not so easily duped _ by ap-
pearances. On his return from "Villagarcia, where he had been to visit his
family, he WTote: "As to what people here say of his majesty's quitting the
place, there are no grounds for it. 1 observe no change in him : but, on the
contrary, a decided feelmg of contentment and repose. If he lias said any-
thing to encourage the idea, in must have been from mere policy. The thmg
is impossible."

Navarre, thus assigned as the theatre on which Charles was to make his

BOOK 111.] CHAllLES AND lilE JLET.VIES Of NAVAERE, 559

reappearance before the world, was the subject of a long and perplexing ne-
gotiation at Yuste. The countiy was a conquest of his grandfather, 1 erdi-
naud the Catholic, and now formed an integral part of the Spanish monarchy.
The emperor had always entertained some doubt — as well lie might— of the
justice of tlds acquisition, and some scruples of conscience as to his right to
retain it. These scruples, however, were not bv any means so powerful as to
dbmijcl him to a restitution. They were, indeed, such as mi^ht be stud rather
to tease than to torment his conscience : and he quieted them altogether by
means of a secret clause in Ids will, dated, some years before his abdication, in
wliich he enjoined on his successor to look carefully into the matter, and do
what was right in it. Having thus happily relieved his conscience of all fur-
ther responsibility in the affair, he seems to have discharged it from his
thoughts. It was, however, again brought before him by the aggrieved
party.

The right of the dethroned family had vested in Antony of Bourbon, duke
of Veudome, who had married the heiress of the house of Albret. This
prince, stvled by the French writers, king of Navan*e, would willingly have
exchanged his barren sovereignty for a substantial consideration, like the
duchy of Milan, or some other territory which the Spanish crown possessed
in Italy. This was the object of a negotiation brought before Charles by the
duke's' emissaries at Burgos, resumed afterwards at JaraudiHa, and finally
conducted with great pertinacity and prolixity at Yuste. It was not the pur-
pose of the Spanish government either to make restitution or compensation
to Vendome. But he was still possessed of that portion of the patrimony
of the house of Albret which lay north of the Pyrenees ; and ^^■erc he to throw
himself into the arms of France, he might aflbrd ob\aous facilities to the
enemy for an invasion of Navarre. It was well, therefore, to amuse him by
encouraging his hopes, so as to gain time. "At all events," wrote the eui-
peror to his daughter, "we cannot fail to protit by drawing out the negotia-
tions as long as possible." When, however, Navarre had been put in a proper
posture of defence, and the ai'my was sutlicientiy strengthened to resist inva-
sion, the government took a more decided tone ; and the conferences were
abruptly closed by Charles, who ordered Yendome to be told that " since he
had rejected the proposals made to him, neither the emperor nor his son
would have anything more to do with hun." — It is evident that the crafty
policy wliich had distinguished the emperor on the thi-one did not desert him
m the cloister.

The tidings from Italy were now of the most encouraging kind. Every
courier brought accounts of fresh successes of the duke of Alva. That able
commander, with the help of the funds remitted from Spain, for which he was
greatly indebted to Charles's exertions, had got together a force large enough
to enable him to make head against his rival, the duke of Guise. He accord-
ingly marched rapidly towards the north. As he advanced, the places which
had been conquered by the French threw open their gates to receive him.
Guise hju-dly waited for his arrival ; and Alva, without the hazard of a battle,
drove his enemy across the borders. He then fell with his whole strength
on the papal territory. City and hamlet went down before him ; and Paul the
Fourth, from his palace of the Vatican, might descry the coui'se of the enemv's
march by the smoking ruins of the Campagna. The duke even brought his
victorious legions up to the gates of the capital. For a few hours the fate of
Rome trembled in the balance, as the Spanish general threatened to repeat
the bloodv drama which had been acted by the constable of Bourbon, and
wliich still lingered in the memory of many a lioman. The panic of the in-
habitants was fearful. With frantic cries they called on Paul to come to
terms with the enemy. The aiTogant pontiii saw that tlie mood of the people

560 CHAHLES'S IXDIGXATION AT THE TREATY WITH PAUL IV. |_BOOK lU.

was a dangerous one, and that no alternative remained but to submit. In this
hour of humiliation, the clemency — the superstition of his enemies converted
his humiliation into triumph.

Philip had long felt that there was neither profit nor honour to be gained
from a war with the pope. Nothing, indeed, but the reckless violence of
Paul could have forced him into a war with the Church, opposed, as such a
step was, to both his principles and his estabHshed policy. It was as the
champion of the Church, not as its assailant, that Philip would stand before
the world. He instructed Alva to extricate him from his present position by
coming to terms as soon as possible with his holiness, A treaty was accord-
ingly signed, on the fourteenth of September, by which it was agreed that
all conquests made from the Church should be restored to it, and that the
Spanish commander should publicly ask pardon for having borne arms against
the Holy See. It was a treaty, as Alva bluntly remarked, " that seemed to
have been dictated by the vanquished rather than the victor." There was no
help for it, however. The orders of Philip were peremptory ; and Paul the
Pourth, after all his disasters, had the satisfaction of seeing his enemy sue for
forgiveness on his knees, and of granting him absolution. " Had I been king,"
said Alva, indignant at the humiliation, " his holiness should have sent one
of his nephews to Brussels to sue for my pardon, instead of my general's
having to sue for his."

The news of the peace was received with joy throu^ghout Spain, where the
inhabitants seemed to be as anxious as their sovereign for a reconciliation
with Rome. The tidings were everywhere greeted with illuminations, bon-
fires, ringing of bells, and solemn processions. Joanna, with the Infant Don
Carlos, assisted at two of these Mter, of which an account was sent by the
secretary Vazquez to Yuste ; where despatches were also received contaming
the terms of the treaty. They made a very different impression on the em-
peror from what they had done on the public. He had never shared in his
son's scruples in regard to the war. "It was a iust war," he said. " The
pope could not have dealt worse with Philip if he had been a heretic ; and he
stood excused, before God and man, from the consequences of a war into
which he had been driven by necessity." It was even a matter of regret at
Yuste, when a courier arrived from Italy, that he brought no tidings of the
death of Paul or of his mischievous counsellors, the Caraffas!^ If he had
learned that Home had been sacked by Alva, as it had formerlv been by liis
own troops under Bourbon, it would probably have disturbed mm less than
the terms of the present treaty.

As he listened to the despatches, he could not repress his indignation.
The secret articles, he said, were as scandalous as the public. Not a day
passed, for a month afterwards, according to Quixada, without his muttering
between his teeth in tones scarcely audible, but plainly intimating his discon-
tent. When he was told that Alva was preparing to quit his government at
Naples and return home, "his anger," says the secretary, "was more than
was good for liis health." Some time afterwards, the grand-commander Avila
brought him a letter from the duke, in which he expressed the hope that he
might be allowed, on his retm-n, to kiss the hand of his majesty. On this
Charles did not vouchsafe a remark ; and, when AvUa would have read some

1 " Del Papa y de Carafifa se siente aqui que no haya llegado la nueva de que se han
muerto, que es harto dafio que se desee esto a un Vicario de Jesus Cristo, y en Espana, y
mucho mayor que de ocasion el Papa pai-a ello." Carta de Martin de Gaztelu a Vazquez
de Molina, 8 de Noviembre, 1556, MS.

I give the original, as I have not seen this remarkable passage quoted elsewhere, and
the letter containing it is not in Gachard's printed collection.

BOOK 111.] HE SUFFERS PROil AN ATTACK OP GOUT. 661

capec

particulars which the duke communicated in regard to the treaty, the emperor
woukl not listen to them, — saying, he had heard too much already.
The reader has seen enough to be aware that the emperor's auger was mis-
rected ; that it should have fallen, not on the duke, who only obeyed orders,
it on the kuig, who 2:ave them. Yet no reflection on his son's conduct es-
ped his hps ; and as it was necessary that his wrath should find some ob-
ject on which to expend itself, Alva, the agent who carried the obnoxious
measures into execution, became the scape-goat. Charles, indeed, seems to
have persuaded liimself that he deserved to be so. "When the monarch learned,
shortly before his death, that his son had bestowed on his general the sum of
a hundred and fifty thousand ducats, " He has done more for the duke," ex-
claimed the emperor, "than the duke ever did for him."

Unfortunately, at the tune of receiving the Italian news, the emperor was
smartmg uuder an attack of gout, — the more severe, perhaps, from the long
inteiTal which had elapsed since the preceding one. The disturbance caused
by the miwelcome tidings no doubt aggravated the disorder ; and his bodily
pains by no means sers'cd to allay the irritation of his temper. " It was the
sharpest attack," he said, "he had ever experienced." Sixteen ounces of
blood were taken from him, by his physician, on one day ; and Quixada, who
feared the consequences of his master's plethoric habit and self-indulgence at
the table, expressed a wish that, instead of sixteen ounces, it had been thirty.
To add to Charles's disgust at this time, he was exposed to some of those
petty annoyances that are often quite as trying to the temper as those of a
more serious nature. The inhabitants of the adjoining village of Cuacos seem
to have been a rude, unmamierly race, showing but little of the reverence
that might have been expected for the illustrious recluse w^ho had taken up
his residence in their neighb9urhood. They seized and impounded his cattle
when they strayed from their pastures. They fished in tne streams which
were reserved to supply his table with trout. They plundered his orchards,
quarrelled with his d.omestics, — in short, contrived in a hundred ways to in-
flict on him those annoyances of which he had had no experience until he
descended into a private station. This was rendered the more disagreeable
from the fact that the people of Cuacos had been, in a peculiar maimer, the
subjects of the emperor's bounty since his residence among them. Prom the
time he came to luste he had peen in the habit of appropriating a part of
his revenue to charitable uses, dispensing a liberal sum, through his almoner,
for the relief of the peasantry in the Vera, releasing poor debtors from prison,
and providing marriage portions for the young maidens. Cuacos, where many
of his household lodged, had reaped the full benefit of his charities. There
was abundant occasion for them during the first summer of Charles's convent
life, when the crops failed to such an extent that many persons actually
perished of famine. The distress of the peasantry was so great, that they
were driven to plunder the emperor's sumpter mules on the way to the
convent.

At his request the government had appointed a magistrate to act as a sort
of rural judge of the district, with authority to decide in cases in wliich the
emperor was a party. 13y his assistance, several of the culprits were brought
to justice : but, through Charles's interposition, the punishment was a light
one. A aepredation of a serious natiire was committed in his own house,
where eight hundred ducats were purlomed from his cotters. The theft must
have been perpetrated by one of Ins family ; and the judge recommended the
application of the torture, — the most eftectual mode of extracting evidence
in that day. The emperor, however, would not consent to it, and put a stop
to further proceedings, wisely remarking, at the same tune, that "there wero
some cases in which it was as well not to know the truth."

So

5G2 ATTEMPT TO UNITE THE CROWXS OF SPAIN AND PORTUGAL. [liOOK HI.

On the eleventh of Jmie died John the Third, king of Portugal. He married
the emperor's youngest sister, Catherine, whom he entrusted by his will, both
with the regency of the kingdom and the guardianship of his grandson, and
infant heir to the crown, Don Sebastian, — the prince whose quixotic adven-
tures and mysterious fate, turning history into romance, furnisn the most ex-
traordinary pages in the Portuguese annals. The young prince was also grand-
son of Charles, being the child of his daughter, Joanna, and the only fruit of
her short-lived union with the prince of Portugal. Joanna felt herself much
aggrieved by the will of her father-in-law, conceiving that she had a better
title than Queen Catherine both to the regency and to the guardianship of
the boy. She accordingly sent an envoy, T)on Padrique Henriquez de Guz-
man, charged with letters to the queen regent and to some of the great lords,
in which she set forth her pretensions. Don Padrique stopped at Yuste to
acquaint the emperor of the purport of his mission. _ Charles saw at once the
mischief that might arise from the interference of his daughter in this deli-
cate business. Without hesitation he took possession of the despatches, and
substituted others in their place, addressed to the queen, his sister, in wMch
he condoled with her on her late bereavement, and ofTered the consolations
of an affectionate brother. At the same time he wrote to his daughter,
stating what he had done, and gently rebuking her for an interference whicli
might well lead to a serious misunderstanding between the courts of Spain
and Portugal. He concluded^ his paternal homily by reminding her how im-
portant it was for members of the same family to maintain an aft'ectionate
mtercourse with one another. The course so promptly taken by Charles, on
this occasion, shows how absolute was the control which he exercised in his
seclusion, and the deference which vv^as paid to it even by persons highest in
authority.

While the emperor thus wisely stopped the negotiations of his daughter,
he opened one on his own account with the queen-regent of Portugal. The
object of this was to secure to his grandson, Carlos, the succession to that
crown in case of the death of the young Sebastian. Tliis would unite under
one sceptre the different states of the Peninsula. The project failed ; for the
national spirit of the Portuguese, always jealous of _ their Spanish neighbours,
made it too hazardous for Catherine to entertain it for a moment; and
Charles was persuaded by her arguments to renounce it. It was a grand
idea, however, that of thus bringing together two nations, which, by com-
munity of race, language, and religion, would seem originally to have been
designed for one. It shows how, in the depth of the cloisters, Charles's com-
prehensive miud was occupied with the interests of his country. Events were
not ripe for such a consmnmation. But it would have gladdened the heart
of the great emperor, could he have foreseen that a quarter of a century
would not elapse before it would be achieved by his own son.

The man whom Charles had employed on this delicate and confidential
mission was no other than his friend Prancisco Borja. The good father chose
to perform his journey on foot ; and the fatigue of travel threw him into a
fever, which had well-nigh ended his eai-thlv pilgrimage. On his return, he
passed some two or three days at Yuste, where he was cordially welcomed ;
lor between the imperial recluse and the noble Jesuit similarity of circum-
stances had created a s^mpath)^ such as existed between Charles and no
other person. Brother Prancis, if we may take the word of his biograpljers,
even received the extraordinary compKment of being lodged hi the palace,
where he was supplied, each day, with a dish from the emperor's table.

Tlie conversation of the two friends naturally turned on the circumstances
of their situation. In the course of it, the emperor regretted that his in-
firmities were such as not to allow him to perfonn the penance he wished, by

BOOK III.] THE EMPEaOE*8 AUTOBIOGBAPHY. 563

dispensing with a bed and lyina in his clothes all night. Brother Francis
slept in his frock, and on a bojird. " It is/' replied the Jesuit, in the courtly
strain whicli savoured of his eaiiy breeding, " because your majesty lias so
long watched in your armour, that you cannot now sleep in your clothes.
But, Heaven be praised ! you have done more good bv the vigils you have
kept in defence of the I'aiLh, than was ever done by monks who have slept all
night in haii'-cloth."

Some allusion having been made to Borja's children, Charles was surprised
to fijid how entirely his friend's devotion to his new calling had absorbed his
sympathies, to the exclusion of those who were nearest, andf should have been
dearest, to liim. It was otherwise with the emperor, whose attachment to his
own fanuly was in no degree blunted by his cloister Ufe.

One curious point of casuistry was submitted by the monarch to his guest.
Charles wished to know if there could be anything wrong in a man's writmg
his own biography, provided it were done in good faith, and nothing set down
from vanity, lie had written bis memou-s,he added, but from no desire of
self-glorification, but simply to correct sundry errors which liad been circulated
of him, and to exhibit his conduct in its true light. " Should you find," he
said, " that my pen lias been guided by secret vanity, — for I am aware that
the heai-t is a great deceiver in these matters, — I would throw it down at
once, and give what I have written to the wind, since it would be as empty
as the wind." One would have liked to be editied by the father's answer,
which, unfortunately, has not been preserved. We can hardly imagine that
he could have insisted on the suppression of a work conducted on such sound
principles, and of such interest to the world. But it has never come to light.
That Chai'les did write such an autobiography, or a portion of it, is proved
by other evidence. His learned chamberlain, van Male, assures his corre-
spondent that his master, when sailing on the Khine, wrote an account of
his journeys and his military expeditions to as late a date as 1550. A work
compiled under such circumstances could have been little more than a
sketch, — unless we suppose that, the composition then begun was completed
in the leisure of ^ later years. That it was something more than a fragment,
seems probable from the general tone of Van Male's remarks, who commends
it, moreover, for the elegance of the style, as well as for its dignified tone and
its fidelity to historic truth. The admiring cliamberlain deeply regrets that
the emperor will not give his production to the public, but '* keeps it locked
under a hundred keys." It seems, however, he obtained his master's consent
to make a Latin translation of the work, which, with much self-complacency,
he proposes to execute in "a style that should combine the separate merits
of Tacitus, Livy, Suetonius, and Csesar."
Unhappilj', the world was not destined to profit by this rare style of com-
^^TX)sitiou ; for, on his master's death, Luis Quixada — as the poor chamberlain
I^^Bsed afterwards to complain witli tears in his eyes — entered his apartment
l^^^d carried off the emperor's manuscript. He remembered enough of its
contents, he was wont to add, to compose another memoir of the emperor,
which he intended to do. On his death, which occurred only two years later,

Iiiilip ordered that the poor gentleman's papers should be s'earche'd, and that
^y which might be found relating to the emperor should be sent to him, to
S thrown into the fire. No such memoir was found, however ; and the report
Bi that Van Male had burnt most of his papers before his death. It may
Sem strange that Philip should have desired to destroy a liistoiy of hJ5
ither, compiled by one who, from his daily intercourse with him, had en-
joyed the best means of information. Perhaps it was for that very reason
that he M'isbed to destroy it. Van Male had been behind the scenes, where
the purple was laid aside Philip considered that a king was hedged roimd

2o2

664 THE EMPEROR IS VISITED BY HIS SISTERS. [BOOK HL

witli a peculiar sanctity, which the prying eye of the vulgar was not to pene-
trate. He would have his father presented to the world as a hero ; and no
man, he knew, was a hero to his valet de chambre."

TV hat was the precise character of Charles's autobiography, we have no
means of determining. War had been the great business of his life ; and,
from the hints dropped by Van Male, it is not improbable that the work con-
sisted of military memoirs, fashioned, it may be, on Caesar's Commentaries,
which he held in great esteem, and a translation of whicli was among the
small collection of volumes he took with him to Yuste. But however this
may be, anything relating to the times, from the pen of one who may be said
to have controlled the politics of Europe for nearly half a century, would be
of inestimable value ; and the loss of such a work must be deplored by every
friend of science.

In the latter part of September, Yuste was honoured by the presence of the
emperor's two sisters, the dowager queens of France and Hungary. When
he had been advised of their coming, considering that the palace would afford
no accommodation for the royal ladies with theii- numerous train, he ordered
Quixada to find lodgings for them at Jarandilla, — probably in the same hos-
pitable halls of Oropesa, where he had himself found a shelter. The poor
major-domo, who found it no easy matter to provide for the royal household
from the famine-stricken Vera, was driven to his wits' ends by the prospect
of the new demands that were to be made on his larder. " We can give their
majesties plenty of ice," he wrote to his friend, the secretary of state, "and
that is the greatest dainty we can give thena."

Charles, who had not seen his sisters since he parted from them at Valla-
dolid, received them with much kindness. To Eleanor, the ex-queen of
Erance and Portugal, he was particularly attached. Her gentle manners
and amiable character made her generally beloved. Mary's masculine un-
derstanding rendered her a more fitting companion for his business hours.
She was often closeted with him in his cabinet, where they would read over
together the latest despatches from the seat of war. Charles deferred much
to her judgment, which had been sharpened by long practice in the afl'airs of
government. He seems to have always entertained a high opinion of the
capacity of the sex. His earliest years had been spent at the court of a
woman, his aunt, Margaret of Savoy, who swayed the viceregal sceptre of the
Netherlands with great ability: and when it passed into the hands of Mary,
she acquitted herself with no less credit in a post that proye:d so embarrass-
ing to her successors. Indeed, Charles had so high an opinion of his sister
that he would willingly have associated her in the regency of Spain with his
daughter Joaima, who had by no means the efficiency of her aunt, — perhaps
the emperor may have thought not enough for the present critical time. She
had spiiit enough, however, to decliue any partner m the government, much
more her aunt of Hungary, who, she said, " was so ambitious of power that
she should find herseK very soon reduced to a cipher." The project, accord-
ingly, was abandoned. Mary requited her brother's confidence by regard-

- SI. Gachard, in the second volume of his ^'^ Retraite et Mort de Charles- Quint"" (Pre-
face, p. 150), which has made its appearance since the text above was written, notices,
as one of the items in an inventcry of the emperor's effects prepared by order of his
executors, a velvet bag containing papers formerly in the possession of Van Male, and
taken from him by Luis Quixada, and afterwards 'placed in the hands of the king. This
confirms the truth of Van Male's own statement, and leads very naturally to the con-
clusion that among these papers was the memoir of Charles the Fifth. Of their subse-
quent fate we know nothing. But this should not surprise us. There is more than one
well-attested instance on record of Philip's having destroyed documents that he did not
care should meet the eye of posteritj.

BOOK III.] INTEEVIEW BETTTEEN ELEANOE AND MARY OP POETTJGAL. 565

ing him with feelings little short of idolatry,— speaking of him as " her all in
this world after God."

During nearly three months which the royal matrons passed at Jarandilla,
Eleanor was prevented by her feeble health from visiting the convent more
than two or three times. Her more robust sister, fondf of the saddle, and
indiiferent to the weather, would often gallop through the autumnal woods of
Yuste, and pass a few hoiirs with the emperor, rarely, however, staying long
enough to enliven his solitary repast with her presence. Indeed, it does not
appear that she received much encouragement to do so. After the queens
haa been a few days at Jarandilla, Quixada inquired of his master whetner it
would not be better to provide quarters for them at Yuste. But Charles re-
plied, that it was best as it was ; that they could come over and transact
their business when they had a mind, and then go back again. " And since

^^lat is his majesty's will in the matter," concludes the major-domo, " there

^^B nothing further to be said."

^H^ While at Jarandilla, arrangements were made for an interview between
Eleanor and the infanta, Mary of Portugal, her only daughter, by Emmanuel
the Great. It was twenty-five years since she haa seen her child, and she
longed, with a mothei-'s yearning, to have her remove to Spain, where the
queen, during the brief remainder of her days, might enjoy the consolation of
her daughter's society. But Mary, who had been born and bred in Portugal,
where she continued after her widowed mother had given her hand to Francis
the First, had no mind to leave her native land, still less to live in Spain. It
had once been proposed to unite her to her cousin Philip, and she may have
resented the incugmtv put on her by that prince, when, in obedience to his
pohtic father, he had transferred his heart— at least his hand— from Mary ol
Portugal to his kinswoman, Mary of England. It is certain, too, that the
infanta was much under the inliuence of the clergy, who profited too largely
by her benefactions to wish to see her transfer her residence to Castile. The
free hand with which she applied her revenues to religious uses gained for her
a reputation little short of that of a saint. But. Uke some other saints, Mary
seemed to think that the favour of Heaven was best to be propitiated by the
sacrifice of earthly ties. However submissive to the Church she might be, she
was far from being a dutiful or affectionate daughter.

The afl'air became the subject of an extensive correspondence, in which the
emperor took part, soothing by turns the irritation of the mother and of the
daughter, and endeavouring to bring them nearer to each other. In the end,
after a negotiation as long and embarrassing as if a treaty between nations
had been the subject, he had the satisfaction of seein^a meeting arranged be-
tween the parties in the frontier to\vn of Badajoz. The infanta would con-
sent to no spot farther removed from Portugal. The meeting was to take
place in the coming spring ; and, on the fourteenth of December, the two

aueens rode over to the convent to take leave of their brother, preparatory to
leir departure. Besides their usual train, he provided them with an escort,
consisting of the count of Oropesa with other nobles and cavaliers, to accom-

gany them to the place of interview. There they found the infanta, attended
y a brilliant retinue of the great lords and ecclesiastics of Portugal, inti-
' mating the high consideration which she enjoyed in that country. A detach-
ment from this body she sent fonvard to Yuste to bear her compHments to
her uncle, the emperor.

The fond mother had the happiness of embracing the child from whom she
nad been separated for so many years. Both she and her sister Mary gave
substantial proofs of theii" affection in the mcignificent presents which they
iavished on the infanta. Among these were jewels given by Queen Eleanor,
of the value of fifty thousand gold ducats. But neither presents, nor caresses,

565 THE EMPEROE DEPLORES THE LOSS OF CALAIS. [BOOK III.

nor the tears of lier mother, had any power to touch the heart of the infanta.
She would not relent in her original purpose of remaniing in Portugal. Nor
■would she prolong the interview beyond three weeks, at the end of whick
she bade a last adieu to her mother and her aunt ; and, turning her back for
ever on Spain, she retraced her steps to Lisbon. Her disconsolate parent,
attended by the queen of Hungary, set out on a pilgrimage to Guadalupe, but
had hardly gone a fevv- leagues, when she was attacked by a fever, caused in
pai-t, no doubt, by the agitation of her miud, which was soon attended with
the most alarming symptoms.

^ While tliis was passing, the little community of Yuste was astounded by
tidiugs of a disastrous character from France. The duke of Guise, mortified
by the result of the Italian campaign, was desii'ous, by some brilliant achieve-
ment, to efiace the memory of his disasters, and to raise the drooping spirits
of the nation. The enterprise he prm)Osed was the recovery of Calais, — that
stronghold on the French soil where England had planted her foot immovably
for more than two centuries. The recoveiy of this place at some future day
had been the fond hope in which the French had indulged, like that once
entertained by tlie Moriscos on the Earbary coast of the recovery of the lost
kingdom of Granada. It was a hope, however, rather than an expectation.
The English, on their part, were confident in the impregnable character of
the place, as was implied by an inscription in bronze on the gates, which
boasted that " the French would never besiege Calais till lead and iron should
swim Mke cork." It was this confidence which proved their rain.

_ Guise conducted his movements with silence and celerity. He mustered
his forces, marched upon Calais in the dead of winter, and, when an enemy
was least expected, presented himself before the gates. It was the first day
of January, 1558. The forts which covered the place were stormed ; and the
town, shorn of its defences, fell an easy prey into the hands of the victors.
A single week had sufficed for the conquest of the strong post which had
defied the arms of England under Edward the Third for nearly a twelve-
month.

The report of this brilliant coup-de-main filled the country with imbounded
joy. The heart of every Frenchman swelled wdth exultation, as he learned
that the foul stain was at length wiped away from the national scutcheon.
The English were in the same proportion depressed by the tidings; and
Philip mightwell tremble for the Netherlands, as he saw the bulwark removed
which had hitherto seiTcd to stay the tide of invasion on that quarter. Ill
news is said to travel apace. And it may be thought strange that, even in
that age, an event of such interest as the loss of Calais should have been
more than three weeks in getting to the regent at Valiadolid, jmd still three
days more in reaching Yuste. It must be admitted to form a striking contrast
to the electric speed with which intelligence is communicated in our day. _

The news reached Yuste on the third of February. Charles was at the time
in a low state, not having rallied as yet from his last attack of gout,— the
second which he had had during the winter. Though supported by cushions
in his easy-chair, he said, " the paia pierced to the very bones." Ths courier
who brought the tidings of the loss of Calais arrived in the evening, Quixada
deferred communicating them to his master till the next morning, lest they
should cause him a sleepless night. He judged right. Charles said, when
the news was told to him, " that nothing he had ever heard had given him
so much pain." It was not the loss of Calais simply that he deplored. His
eye glanced to the consequences. He saw in imagination the French sweep-
ing across the borders, and carrying devastation up to the very gates of Brus-
sels. As far back as November, having heard of preparatioub in France, he
had warned the government tltat aii attempt would probably be made bv the

BOOK III.] DEATH OP HIS SISTEE, THE QUEEN Of FBANCE 5G7

enemy to recover some of the places lie had lost. He did not now waste his

lime in idle lament. Feeble as he was, he at once sent despatches to Valla-

(loUtl, urging the regent to lose no time in forwarding remittances to her

1) rot her, lis on them nnist de])end his power of keeping the field, and protect-

■ ig the Netherlands against mvasion. " 1 know,'^ concluded Charles, '' that

on will require no arguments of mine to make you use all ddigeucc in the

jatter. But I cannot help writing ; for 1 feel so sensibly what mav be the

onsequences of the late disaster, that I shall have no more peace till 1 leani

rhat nas been done to repair it." Thus stimulated, the government at Yalla-

lolitl made extraordinary ellbrts; and such large remittances of funds were

romptly sent to Philip, as enabled him to keep on foot a force of sutiicient

[trength* to cover the frontier, and in the end— after his father's death— to

ictate the terms of a peace as honourable to Spain as it was inglorious to

be enemy.

^ While affairs abroad were in this gloomy condition, Charles was more keenly

'istressed by tidings of a domestic calamity. This was the death of his sister,

ie queen of France. The fever which had interrupted her journey, and con

led her in a little town onlv three leagues from Badajoz, was aggravated by

I attack of asthma, to whicli disease she had loug been subject. The symp-
)ms became every day more unfavoui-able. The complicated nialady baffled

II the skill of her physician ; and it was soon evident that Eleanor's days
rere numbered. Gaztelu, the emperor's secretary, had been sent by him with
jespatches for the queen of Hungary. He arrived just in time to receive the

last instructions of her sister. He found the djing queen in full possession
of her faculties, waiting with resignation for the hour when her gentle spirit
should be released. She charged the secretary with many tender remem-
brances for her brother, whom she besought with all humility, by the love he
had always borne her, to watch over the interests of her cluid when she should
be no more here to do it herself. Her last thoughts were occupied with the
daughter who had made so poor a requital for her tenderness. By her will
she .made her the sole heir to the extensive estates she possessed both in
France and Spain, wliich, combined with the large domains belonging to the
infanta in Portugal, made her the most splendid match in Christendom. But
"lough proposals were made for her alliance with more than one prince, it
'as the destiny of Mary of Avis to live and die a maid. She survived her
iother but a few years ; and the greater part of her princely patrimony she
evoted, at her death, to the endowment of convents and chapels, and other
jligious uses, for wluch she is held in reverence by the Portuguese chroni-
lers, and her memory cherished as that of one who had died in the odour of
mctity.

The emperor, at the time of his sister's illness, was suffering from a fourth
ittack of gout, no doubt much exasperated by the state of his mind, it was
D severe as to confine him for more than a fortnight to his bed. To add to
is distress, his mouth was exceedingly inflamed, and his tongue swollen^ so
lat he could take little other nourishment than sweetened oiscuit. With
is dismal cheer he kept the/eie of St. Matthias, the twenty-fourth of
February, — his own birthday, — m strong contrast to the joyous manner in
rhich he had celebrated the same anniversary in tlie prececmig year.

Charles was greatlv aillicied by the news of his sister's death. Though

>ot accustomed to exhibit his emotions, liis eyes filled witii tears, as he spoke

^f her to his secretary, Gaztelu. " She was a good Christian," he said.

"We always loved each other. She was older than I by lifteen months ; and

efore that time has elapsed I shall probably be with her." In less than half

lat tune the sad prediction was fulfilled.

The queen of Hungary was overv/lielmed by the blow • and she resol?ed tQ

568 QUEEN MARY TAKES A FINAi. lufiAVE OF CHARLES. [BOOK III.

repair to Yuste, to seek consolation in the society of her brother. This time
he determined to lodge her in the palace, and he gave the major-domo di-
rections accordingly. Charles had sent to Valladolid for mourning, as he
intended to put his whole household into black ; and he was anxious that it
should come Defore queen Mary's arrival. He seemed to look forward with a
sort of nervous apprehension to their meeting. " I shall never feel that my
sister is dead," he said to Q.uixada, " till I see the queen of Hungary enter
the room alone," Both parties were much affected at the interview. But
the emperor endeavoured to repress his emotions, while his sister gave free
indulgence to hers.

The queen was lodged, as her brother had ordered, in an apartment on the
lower floor. Her retinue were quartered in Cuacos and Jarandilla, where
their presence, greatly increasing the burdens of the commissariat department,
^ave little joy to its chief. Unfortunately, it was the season of Lent. " It
is no light matter in Estremadura," says the unhappy functionary, " to keep
open house in Lent, when fish is the only thing in request. The fish-market
of Cuacos is somewhat different from that of iVntwerp or Brussels. But we
must do the best we can." He concludes by expressing a wish that the secre-
tary Vazquez, to whom he is writing, would send " a supply of fresh salmon,
if any can be had, or any other dainty, — above all, herrings, both dry and salt,
of which his majesty is especially fond." Li a week after this we find a letter
from Dr. Matlivs, the physician, in which, after some remarks on his master's
improved health, as the gout had begun to yield, the writer adds, in a doleful
tone, that the emperor had already begun to stimulate his appetite with salt
meats, garlic, herrings, and other provocatives, which had always proved so
ruinous to his stomach.

Queen Mary protracted her stay for nearly a fortnight. She then took
leave of her brother — a final leave — for they were never again to meet in tliis
world. She established her residence in the neighbourhood of Valladolid.
The emperor, at Philip's solicitation, earnestly pressed her to return to the
Netherlands and to resume the regency, for which she had proved herself so
well qualified. With great reluctance, she at last gave her consent, under
certain conditions ; but her death prevented the execution of the plan, and
saved her from the humiliating scenes to which her successoj, Margaret of
Parma, was exposed by the revolutionary troubles of the country. Mary,
who died of a disease of the heart, much aggravated by the suffering she had
of late experienced, survived her brother but a few weeks._ Li the brief space
of two years from the time when the emperor and his sisters had landed in
Spain, the earthly career of all of them was closed.

In the month of April, Charles received the intelligence that his renun-
ciation of the empire nad at last been accepted. At tlie time of abdicating
his other crowns, he had been persuaded by Philip to defer his resignation of
the imperial sceptre for the present. Por a short time he consented to retain
the title of " emperor," devolving all the real power on his brother Perdinand,
king of the Bomans, who was to succeed him on the throne. When the
Prench war broke out, Philip, with stiU more reason, was desirous that his
father should retain the sovereigntv of Germany. But Charles had already
sent his resignation to the electoral coUege, and he would take no steps to
postpone the meeting of that body. Various circumstances, however, con-
spired to delay this meeting, and it was not till the twelfth of March, 1558,
that the diet, having accepted the renunciation of Charles, finally elected
Perdinand as his successor. It is another proof of the tardy pace at which
news travelled in that day, that the tidings of an event of so much interest
did not reach Yuste tiU the twenty-ninth of April. One might have thought
that the intelligence would have passed from mouth to mouth in less than

BOOK m.] HIS EPFOKTS TO EitERMIHATB THE PROTESTANT DOCTEINES. 509

half the time that it is stated to have taken to send it by the courier. That
this was not so, can only be explained by the low state of commercial inter-
course in that day, and by the ignorance of the great mass of the people,
which prevented them from taking an interest in public aflairs.

It was with undisguised satisfaction that Charles welcomed the tidings of
an event that released him from the shadow of sovereignty ; for it was onlv
the shadow that had followed him to Yuste. He wrote at once to Valladolia,
directing that all despatches hereafter should be addressed to him as a private
individual, not as emperor. He ordered that two seals should be made, with-
out crown, ea^le, or other imperial device, but simply with the arms of Spain
quartered witn those of Burgundy, intimating his descent by father's and
mother's side. He commanded the escutcheons and other insignia to be re-
moved from the walls of his convent palace, and the name of jferdinand to
be substituted for his own in Uie prayers of the Church and the service of
the mass. He was so punctilious, that when the ladies of Cuaeos presented
him with a basket of flowers fancifully disposed so as to represent the imperial
crown, he would not allow it to stand iu his apartment till the flowers had
been re-arranged by the gardener in some other form. He called his house-
hold together, and infomied them of Ferdinand's election, adding, " As for
me, the name of Charles is enough; henceforth I am nothing." To his do-
mestics it seemed as if this renunciation of worldly grandeur was, in some
sort, a preparation for death; and many of themwere alFected to tears. Even
the monks, accordui^ to the testimony of one of their number, could not per-
form mass without being sensibly touched, as they substituted the name of
Ferdinand for that of their belovea emperor.

It was at this time that Charles received the alarming intelligence that the
protestant doctrines, which had been convulsing the neighbouring countries
of Christendom, had at length found their way across the Pyrenees, and
were secretly, but by no means slowly, sappmg the founda'tions of the
Church. The heretics had even been so audacious as to begin their opera-
tions in Yalladolid, under the very eye of the regent. The cry was raised,
and the bloodhounds of the Holy Office were already on the scent to ferret
out the oflFenders, and drag them into day. Charles, whose life had been
passed in battUng against the heresy of Luther, was filled with horror at the
idea of its even then infecting the atmosphere which he breathed. To get
rid of the infection bv the speediest way possible became now the enpossmsr
subject of his thouglits. On the third of May, he wrote to his daughter
Joanna : " Tell the grand inquisitor and his 'council from me, to be at their
posts, and to lay the axe at the root of the evil before it spreads further. I
rely on your zeal for bringing the guilty to trial, and for having them punished,
without favour to any one, with all the severity that their crimes demand."
In another letter, written three weeks later, he says : " If I had not entire
confidence that you would do your duty, and arrest the evil at once, by chas-
tising the guilty in good eamestj I know not how I could help leaving ihe
monastery and taking the remedy mto mv ONvn hands." He expressed a doubt
whether it would not be weU, in so black an affair, to dispense mth the ordi-
nary course of justice, and to show no mercy ; " lest tlie criminal, if par-
doned, should have the opportunity of repeating his crime." He recom-
mended, as an example, his own mode of proceeding in the Netherlands.
" where all who remained obstinate iu their errors were burned alive, and
those who were admitted to penitence were beheaded."

Not content with writing. Charles ordered Quixada to proceed to Valla-
dolid, where he was to see tne regent and the mquisitor-geueral. communi-
cate to them more fully the emperor's views on tne subject, ana to discuss
the best mode of carrying them into effect. Charles then wrote to his sou,

570 STATE or CHARLES'S HEALTH, [BOOK IV

informing him of what he had done ; and, to give greater force to his in-
junctions, added a postscript with his own hand, in which he urged Philip
to apply the sharpest and speediest remedy that could be devised for extir-
pating tlie seeds of the disease before it had spread over the whole system.
His injunctions fell upon willing ears, as appears from the king's memorandum
endorsed on his father's letter : " Thank him for the orders he has given, and
request him to follow up the affair ; telling him, at the same time, that we
shall pursue the same course here, and acquamting him with what has been
done already."

The emperor's letters from Yuste afford the strongest evidence of the into-
lerance of his disposition. The compromises and concessions wrenched from
him by the German protestants were so many sacrifices to policy, that must,
have done great violence to his nature. In his correspondence with his
family we find the true sentiments of his heart, rendered, doubtless, more
austere under the influence of declining health and the monastic life which
separated him from the world. One cannot, without a shudder, see him thus
fanning the flame of fanaticism in the bosoms of his children, to whose keeping
were entrusted the destinies of the country.

Bigotry seems most naturally to belong to feeble and ignorant miads. It
was the peculiar characteristic of the Spanish prmces of the house of Aus-
tria ; and more than one member of that dynasty was feeble, to the verge of
fatuity. It is the more striking when found to lodge with those extraordi-
nary powers which seem to raise their possessor far above the ordinary level
of humanity. _ Unfortunately, in Charles these powers seiTcd only to give
greater intensity to the feeling of bigotry, and to make it more widely mis-
chievous in its operation. Instead of a mere passive sentmient, it was
quickened into an active principle of fanaticism. His great talents were em-
ployed to perfect a system of persecution which led to the most frightful
results in the Netherlands. No one of his line did so much to fasten the
yoke of superstition on the necks of the Spaniards. He may_ be truly said to
nave stamped his character, not only on his own generation, but on that
that followed it. His example and his teachings directed the policy of the
pitiless Philip the Second, and through him of the imbecile Philip the
Third. His dying words — for his codicil, executed on his death-bed, as we
shall see, breathed the same spirit as his letters — still lingered in the ears of
his posterity, to urge them forward hi the path of persecution • and thus did
he become lar^-ely responsible for the woes brought on the land long after he
had been laid m the dark chambers of the Escorial.

BOOK IV.

Charles's 111 Health— He rehearses his Obsequies— -Is attacked by his last Elness— Codicil
to his Will— -Progress of the Disease — ^Extreme Unction— Last Hours and Death —
Funeral Honours— Philip the Second's Visit to Yuste— Bodies of Charles and his
Family removed to the Escorial — Decay of the Convent at Yuste.

As the spring of 1558 advanced, the emperor's health gradually mended. He
was extremely sensible to cold ; and as the summer drew near, he felt the
j^enial influence of the warmer weather, ajad the letters from Yuste spoke of

BOOK IV.] THE emperor's CELEBRATION OP HIS OWN OBSEQUIES. 571

him as restored to his iisxial health. With renovated health his appetite re-
turned; and he indulged it in liis usual intemperate manner. "Kis majesty
eats much," writes his physician, Dr. Mathys, ' and drinks still more, clmniring:
nothing of his former way of life, and rashly trusting to the natural strength of
his constitution, but httle to be relied on in a body so full of bad humours."
" Kings," writes Quixada, " must surely imagine their stomachs are made
differently from those of other men." At length the bad humours of which
the doctor spoke showed themselves in a cutaneous eruption below the knees,
which caused Charles ^reat annoyance. To allay the irritation^ he slept
under the lightest covermg, and with the windows and doors of his chamber
open. He frequently also bathed his limbs in cold water. His physician
looked with distrust on the use of these violent remedies ; but the emperor
said he would rather have a little fever, than suffer from this intolerable
itclimg. On this Mathys sensibly remarked, that it was not given to us to
choose our diseases ; we might chance, by attempting it, to get sometliing
worse than what we have already. The doctor's remonstrances, however,
were little heeded by Charles, whose imperious nature had ever made him the
most intractable of patients.

The season proved to be extremely unhealthy in the Vera, where tertian
fever of a mabgnant type became prevalent, and several persons died of it.
The count of Oropesa lay so ill of this disease, in his chateau at Jarandilla,
that the emperor sent his own physician to him. On the ninth of Aug-ust,
Charles, after a considerable interval, was attacked bv a fit of the gout, vrhich
was attributed to a cold taken in consequence of his sleeping with his windows
open, — the air, which had been sultry in the evening, having changed and
become chilly during the night. The attack does not seem to havebeeu as
severe as he had sometimes experienced during his residence at Yuste ; for on
the fifteenth of the month we find liim present at the service in the chapel,
though requii'ing the support of his attendants, and seated in his chair. All
symptoms of the disease had vanished by the twenty-fourth of August, when
we find the letters from Yuste speaking of him as entirely recovered.

It was in the latter part of the month of August that an event is said to
have taken place, which has afforded a fruitful theme for speculation to
modem critics. Tliis was the emperor's celebration of his OAvn obsecpiies.
Accoi-ding to the two Jeronymite chroniclers from whom the narrative is
derived, Charles, who caused masses to be celebrated for the soul of liis de-
ceased wife on every anniversary of her death, expressed a wish at this time
^0 his confessor, Juan de Regla, to have funeral services performed in her
honour, and also in that of his parents. _ The confessor having approved of
this pious intention, preparations were instantlv made for carrymg it into
execution; and the obsequies, occupying thi-ee days successively, were cele-
brated by the whole convent with great solemuitj\ Charles himself took part
in them, taking his place near the altar, and tollowing the seiTice in his
prayer-book, — a plain volume which bore the marks of long and diligent use.

When the ceremony was finished, Charles inquired of his confessor whether
it would not be well for him also to perform his own obsequies, and thus see
with his own eyes what must soon befal him. The priest, startled by this
extraordinary proposal, was much affected, and besought the emperor, with
tears in his eyes, not thus to anticipate, as it were, the houi* of his death. But
Charles, urging the matter, inquired if it would not be profitable for his soul :
and the accommodating father having applauded it as a pious act, worthv ot*
imitation, arrangements were made for conducting it with greater pomp than
that of the preceding services. The chapel was accordingly hung with black,
and the blaze of hundreds of wax-Ughts was scarcely suthcient to dispel the
darkness. The brethren in their conventual dress, and all the emperor's

572 EUEOES OF THE JERONYMITE CHRONICLERS [BOOK IV.

household clad in deep mourning, gathered round a huge catafalque, shrouded
also in black, which had been raised in the centre of the chapel. The service
for the burial of the dead was then performed ; and, amidst the dismal wail of
the monks, the prayers ascended for the departed spirit, that it might be
received into the mansions of the blessed. The sorrowful attendants were
melted to tears, as the image of their master's death was presented to their
minds,— or they were touched, it may be, with compassion by this pitiable
display pf weakness. Charles, muffled in a dark mantle, and bearmg a lighted
candle in his hand, mingled with his household, the spectator of his own
obsequies ; and the doleful ceremony was concluded by his placing the taper
ill the hands of the priest, in sign of his surrendering up his soul to the
Ahnighty.

Such is the account given us by the Jeronymite fathers ; one of whom was
an eyewitness of the scenes he describes,^ and the other, though not present
himself, had ample means of obtaining information from those who were.^
Since that time the story has been repeated by successive writers, gaining at
each repetitiou, until in Robertson's pages we find the emperpr perforniing
in his shroud, and then lying down in his coffin, where, after joining in the
prayers for the rest of his own soul, not yet departed, he is left by the
monks to his meditations. It was not till the present day that a more careful
scrutiny, by discovering inconsistencies in the account, led some writers to re-
gard it as a monkish legend, and to doubt the truth of it altogether.

On the afternoon of the same day on which the obsequies had been cele-
brated, being the thirty-first of August, Charles, according to the Jeronymite
chroniclers, took his seat on the covered terrace on the western side of his
house. Here he would often sit, drinking in the sweet odours of the garden,
and enjoying the grateful warmth left by the rays of the declining sun. As
he sat thus musing, with his eyes fixed on the dial which Torriano had erected
for him in the grounds below, he suddenly ordered his jewel-keeper to be
called, and directed him to bring a miniature of the Empress Isabella, of
whom, as we have seen, he had more than one portrait in his collection. He
dwelt a long time on her beautiful features, " as if," says the chronicler, " he
was unploring her to prepare a place for him in the celestial mansions to

1 Nothing is known of this person, except what is to be collected from his own nar-
rative. He was one of the convent, and seems to have lived there during the whole of
the time that Charles resided at Yuste. He was one of the few monks selected to keep
watch over the emperor's remains after his death, and to accompany them when they
were removed to the Escorial. His manuscript, which has very recently been given to
the public by the industrious Gachard, found its way, in some manner not easy to be ex-
plained, into the archives of the Feudal Court of Brabant in Brussels. It was there dis-
covered, not long since, by M. Bakhuizen van den Brink, a member of that court, and
an analysis of it was published by him in the Bulletins de la Commission Royale cfHis-
toire. The narrative is given at length by Gachard, in the second volume of his " Re-
traiie et Mort de Charles- Quints No one who has read this simple record, which bears
on every page the evidence of the writer's calling and of the times in which he lived, can
doubt its authenticity for a moment. For this reason, notwithstanding it comes to us
without a name, it becomes an historical document of great value, inferior only to that of
the original letters from the members of the emperor's household.

- This was Fray Joseph de Siguen9a, prior of the Escorial. As head of the great
Jeronymite monastery, the best sources of information were open to him. He enjoyed,
moreover, the opportunity of personal communication with some who were living at
Yuste during the emperor's residence there, and who, after his death, accompanied his
remains to the Escorial. The result of his investigations he has given in the first volume
of his great work, " Historia de la Orden de San Geroniiuo," published at Madrid in 1605 :
a work which, from the conscientiousness of the writer, and the luminous style in which
it is written, holds a high place in the ecclesiastical literature of Spain.

BOOK rV.] AS TO THE KEHEABSAL OP CHAKLES'S rUXEBAL. 573

wliich she had gone." Some time longer he spent in contemplating Titian's
*' Agony ill the Garden •" after Mluch lie ordered the picture of the "Last
Judgment" to be brought to him, tlie masterpiece of Titian, It was probably
only a sketch, as the great work, which hung on the walls of the chapel, was
too large to be removed. Indeed, his testameut notices a picture of the " Last
Judgment" as amon^ the articles in the possession of his jewel-keeper. He
gazed so lon^ and with such rapt attention on the picture, as to cause appre-
hension in his physician, who, m the emperor's debilitated state, feared the
effects of such excitement on his nerves. There was good reason for appre-
hension ; for Charles at length, rousing from his reverie, turned to the doctor,
and complained that he was iU. His pulse showed him to be in a high fever.
He soon after withdrew to his chamber, which he was never more to leave.

That this account of the Jeronymite brethren is not perfectly con*ect, is
shown by a letter of Dr. Mathys, dated on the first of September, in which
he states that, having gone by his master's orders, on the tliirtieth of Au-
gust^ to JarandiUa, to attend the count of Oropesa, he found the emperor,
on his return, suffering from a severe headache, which he attributed to the
effect of the sun's rays, that fell with 2:reat power on the terrace where he had
dined. Alter a sleepless night, continues the doctor, in which the emperor
suffered much from thirst, he rose and dressed himself; but though somewhat
better in the morning, in the aftenioon he relapsed, the pain in his head re-
turned with increased force, and he exhibited decided symptoms of fever.
From this letter of his physician, written on the spot, we see it was impossible
that the circumstances mentioned by the Jeronymite historians could have
taken place on the day they assign for them. Charles was certainly in no
condition on that day for so exciting a scene as the performance of his own
obsequies.

A still more foraiidable objection to the truth of the narrative is furnished
by the silence of Charles's household in regard to it. It would seem strange
that neither Quixada nor Gaztelu, who were so careful to notice every occur-
rence of interest in their master's life, should have made any allusion to one so
extraordinary as this. This silence is so sigiuficant, that, instead of negative,
it may be thought to acquire the value of positive proof against the truth
of the stor\\

A candid review of the whole matter will suggest some considerations which
may tend much to diminish the weight of these objections. With respect
to the inaccuracy of the dates, that would not be a marvellous thing at any
time, especially with the careless chroniclers of the sixteenth centuiy. The
Ke^ent Joanna furnishes a remarkable example of this inaccuracy in a letter
addressed to Philip, giving with much care the circumstances attending
their father's illness, in which she falls into the gross blunder of mistaking
the date of his death, although the documents from Yuste were before her.
It may well be that the date of the funeral services was some days previous
to that reported by the monks, when Charles would seem to have been suf-
ficiently recovered from the gout to have taken part in them. AViih tlie
exception of a few lines from Gaztelu, relating to public business, we have
no letter from the secretary or the major-domo between the eighteenth and
tiie twenty-eighth of August • at least, I have none in my collection, and have
seen none cited by others. The interval that may have elapsed between the
performance of the ceremony and the writiug of these functionaries may help
to explain their silence on an event which no longer made any strong impres-
sion on their minds. For after all, when due allowanee is made for the ex-
aggerated tone natural to the monkish chronicler, this act was one not al-
together so different in its character from those celebrations with which
Ciiarlcs used to vary the monotony of his monastic life. Thus he showed a

574 DISCUSSION RESPECTING THE MOCK FUNERAL. [BOOK IV.

morbid relisli for performing the obsequies, not merely of his kindred, but of
any one whose position seemed to him to furnish an apology for it. Not a
member of the toison died, but he was prepared to commemorate the event
with solemn funeral rites. These, in short, seemed to be the festivities of
Charles's cloister life. These lugubrious ceremonies had a fascination for
him that may remind one of the tenacity with which his mother, Joanna,
clung to the dead body of her husband, taking it with her wherever she went.
It was after celebrating the obsequies of his parents and his wife, which oc-
cupied several successive days, that he conceived, as we are told, the idea of
rehearsino; his own funeral, — a piece of extravagance which becomes the
rnore credible when we reflect on the state of uimatural excitement to which
his mind may have been brought by dwelling so long on the dreary apparatus*
of death.

There is one part of the narrative, however, that cannot be so readily ex-
plained— the portrait scene on the terrace. There must be some error, in
regard to both the time and the mamier of the event, as reported by the
chronicler. This scene upon the terrace could not have been the one which
immediately preceded the last illness of the emperor. This appears from a
letter of Dr. Mathys, who, far from being present on that occasion, expressly
says that he was with the count of Oropesa at Jarandilla. The portrait scene
must have occuiTcd at some earlier period, therefore, unless the reader may
be disposed to dismiss it altogether, as one of those legends that have their
birth in the cloisters, and easily find credit there. There is no pretence that
the monk who reports it was himself present. He tells it only as a rumour,
and one that, seen through the mist of more than twenty years, — as, from a
date in his manuscript, appears to have been the case, — may well have been
distorted in his recollection.

But the obsequies stand upon very different ground, as the writer assumes
to_ have_ been present and to have taken part in them_ himself. We cannot
reject the story without regarding it as a sheer invention of the chronicler.
Such an effort of invention may be thought to be no miracle in a monk,
especially where the glory of his convent was concerned. But it would be
difficult to see how this was to be in any way affected by a matter which was
altogether personal to Charles. The character of the writers, moreover,
greatly strengthens the improbability of anything like wilful misrepresenta-
tion _ on their part. The manuscript of the monk of Yuste is stamped,
as his Belgian editor justly remarks, with the character of simplicity and
truth ; and Siguenca, the other Jeronymite authority, although tinged with
the superstition of' his age, enjoyed the liighest reputation for integrity and
good faith. It is a question of difficulties, in whatever light we may choose
to regard it ; but a candid consideration of all the circumstances may perhaps
lead the reader to explain these difficulties by a mistake of the date, — not
very extraordinary considering the length of time that had elapsed since the
event. — ^rather than by a wilful fabrication on the part of the writers,^

3 There is one authority, could his work be recovered, who might probably settle this
vexed question. This is Fray Martin de Angulo, prior of Yuste, who prepared, for the
information of the Regent Joanna, a full account of the latter days of her father, with
whom, as the superior of the convent, he was in the habit of daily communication. His
manuscript, which has never found its way to the press, was in the hands of the historian
Sandoval, who professes to have transferred its contents to his own pages. In these we
find a conversation reported, which the emperor had with one of his houseliold, respecting
his mock funeral, which, however, we are to infer never took place, from its being after-
wards stated that the money which Charles designed to appropriate to this object was in
the end applied to his real obsequies. Yet the marquis of Valparayso, in a work still in
manuscript, which he compiled some seventy yeai-s kter, with the memoir of Angulo be-

BOOK IV.] Charles's riu al illness. 676

But to return from a discussion, longer, it may be thought, than the im-
)ortance of the subject warrants, it appears from his pliysician's letler tliat
"Iharles, after his repast on the terrace on the thirtieth of August, was
'seized with the ilhiess from which lie was de^stined never to recover. A
[restless night was succeeded by a day of ^reat suffering. He was tonnented
■ with excessive tliirst ; and the pain in his head was so violent at times that
he lost his consciousness. The disease soon took the aspect of malignant
tertian fever; and Mathys determined, notwithstanding the weak state of his
l^^atient, that if the symptoms did not prove more favourable on the follow-
ing day, he would bleed liim.

Charles himself became alanned at his condition. The symptoms of the
disease were dillereut from anything which he had before experienced. He
made his preparations accordingly, expressed his desire to execute a codicil to
his vrill, and without further delay confessed and received the sacrament. In
performing tliis last act, feeble as he was, he knelt a full quarter of an hour
in his bed, offering thanks to God for the mercies that had been shown him
through life, and expressing the deepest contrition for his sins, with an
earnestness of mamier that touched the hearts of all present.

Quixada, by his master's orders, wrote to the secretary Yazquez, requesting
him to send a commission to Gaztelu investing him with the powers of a
notary, as there was no one who could act in that capacity at Yuste. At the
same time, the major-domo desired that relays of posts might be established
aJon? the route to Valladolid, for the more rapid and regular transmission of
intelligence. Meanwhile, as Charles's fever increased, the physician took
from him ten ounces of a thick, black blood, and, on the eveiung of the same
day, relieved Mm of eight more, by which he felt himself to be much bene-
fited. Matliys, however, shrank Irom the responsibility of taking the sole
charge of his illustrious patient at this crisis ; but Charles, who seems to
have had no great faith in a multitude of counsellors, would not consent
that any other doctor shoidd be called in, except Dr. Cornelius. Joanna's
physician, who to large medical experience united an intimate knowledge
of his constitution.

As Charles reauired the constant attention of his faithful major-domo, the
latter transferred his residence to the convent, that he might remain with his
master by night as well as day. In obedience to the emperor's orders, he
had a short time smce removed' his family from Yillagarcia to Cuacos. Doiia
Magdaleua, his wife, was accompanied by her yomig charge, Don John of
Austria, the emperor's natural son, then a striplmg of eleven years of
age, whom she had brought up with the tenderness of a mother, though she
remained in ignorance of his illustrious origin. On coming to Cuacos, she
was invited by Charles to visit him at Yuste, where he gave her a gracious
reception : and as she doubtless brought her foster-child along with her, the
sight of tne noble boy, his own oH'spring, who had already given evidence
of the chivalrous spirit of later years, may have shed a ray of satisfaction on
the withered heart of the emperor.

The arrival of Dr. Cornelius was attended by no change in the treatment
of the patient, as the elder physician entirely approved of the course pur-
sued by his younger brother. But the disease continued rapidly to gain

fore him as one of his authorities, expressly asserts the fact of the mock funeral having
taken place. Tn this conflict of testimony, it is mnch to be wished that the original ma-
nuscript of Fatiier Angulo could be discovered. It is said still to exist in the National
Library of Madrid, where M. Gachard tells us he once had sight of it. But if so, it has
again become ingulfed in tiie ocean of manuscripts in the library, and thus far eluded
every eflbrt that has been made to bring il to light.

576 THE emperor's will and codicil. [book IV.

ground. The fever was so high tliat Charles could hardly endure the lightest
covering; and it was occasionally accompanied by violent paroxysms which
left him insensible for hours together. On the ninth of the month a com-
mission arrived from Valladolid empowering Gaztelu to act as a notary;
and diaries, who was then in the fuH possession of his faculties, lost no time
in executing his codicil. It had been prepared some time previous, and was
of great length, like the testament to whicn it was attached. By his will he
had bequeathed thirty thousand ducats for the portions of young maidens and
the liberation of captives from the Moorish dungeons. Another provision of
his will, which he now confirmed, directed that thirty thousand masses
should be said for the benefit of his soul in the monasteries and parochial
churches of Spain and the Netherlands. By his codicil, he assigned gratui-
ties and pensions to each member of his household, from Dr. Mathys down to
the meanest scullion. The pensions varied in amount according to the rank
of the parties, the highest reaching to four hundred florins, and so proceeding
b}[ a descending scale to ninety florins annually. Some of the principal Jerony-
mites who had officiated about the emperor's person came in for a share of
his bounty. Two thousand ducats were to be paid at once to Quixada,
whose services were noticed in the most affectionate terms, and who was
to receive a pension equivalent to his present emoluments until Philip should
make some provision for him better suited to his deserts.

But the most remarkable feature of the instrument was the intolerant
spirit that breathed through every page of it where religion was concerned.
The monotonous melancholy way of convent life had given a gloomy colour to
Charles's sentiments, and had imparted something like austerity to his tem-
per. A whimsical proof of this austerity had been furnished some time be-
fore, by an ordinance which he had obtained from the visitors of the convent,
and which was proclaimed by sound of trumpet, decreeing a hundred lashes
to any woman who should approach within two bow-shots of the gate ! Under
the corroding influence of an ascetic life, and the decline of his health at
Yuste, the feelings of bigotry which belonged to the emperor's nature had
been gradually exalted into a more active and mischievous principle of fana-
ticism. This is evident from the system of persecution which he incul-
cated in his letters, with so much energy, on those who had the direction
of affairs both in Spain and in the Netherlands. He was even heard to
express his regret that he had respected the safe conduct of Luther, when
the great reformer presented himsen before the diet at Worms. Fortunately
for Charles's reputation, his good angel had saved him from the perpetra-
tion of a crime which would have branded his name with the infamy that be-
longs to the murderers of Huss. In the codicil which he now signed, he en-
joined upon his son to follow up and bring to justice every heretic in his
dominions, and this without exception, and without favour or mercy to any
one. He conjured Philip to cherish the Holy Inquisition as the best means
for accomplishing this good work. " So," he concludes, " you shall have my
blessing, and the Lord shall prosper all your undertakings." Such were the
last words of the dying monarch to liis son. They did not fall on a deaf
ear; and the parting admonition of his father served to give a keener edge
to the sword of persecution which Philip had already begun to wield.

Charles left directions in his codicil respecting the place of his interment.
A few days before, he had held a long conversation with Quixada on the
subject. He had originally intended that his remains should be removed to
Granada, and there laid in its noble cathedral by the side of the empress,
his wife. There, too, were gathered the ashes of Philip and Joanna, his pa-
rents, and tliose of his great progenitors, Perdinaud and Isabella, of glorious
memory. But he had now changed his mind, and seemed willing that hia

I

I

BOOK IV.] HIS CONSTITUTION PAST SINKING. 577

present residence should also be his final resting-place. He proposed to be
buried in the chapel of Yuste, and to have the body of the empress brought
from Granada, ana placed beside his own. But from this he was persuaded
by Quixada, who represented that Yuste was altogether too humble a place
and in too defenceless a condition to be a fitting mausoleum for the re-
mains of great princes. Charles vielded to these arguments, and contented
himself with directing that his body should be deposited there for the
present, leaving it to Philip to decide on tlie spot where it was perma-
nently to lie, and requiring only that it should be by the side of his beloved
wife. The emperor, having listened to the reading of the codicil, signed
it on the same day. By this act he seemed to have settled all his worldly
affairs, and to have terminated his connexion with the world. He did not,
however, lose his interest in it altogether : and he received with pleasure
the news brought him by Garcilasso de la Vega, that his sister, the queen of
Hungry, had at length consented to return to the Netherlands and give
the kmg, her nephew, the benefit of her councils in the government of that
country.

Disastrous intelligence reached Yuste at this time of a great battle fought
in the neighbourhood of Orau, in which the count of Aleaudete, the governor
of that place, and the flower of the Spanish infantry under his command, had
been cut to pieces by the Moors. The tidings would have fallen heavily on
the heart of the dying emperor, who, as we have seen, had taken the greatest
pains to provide for the safety of the Spanish possessions in Africa. But
^uixada's prudent precautions prevented anything fr9m bein^ said to Charles
on the subject, and saved him from the anguish which would have added a
bitterness to death.

The posts now brought daily tidings to Valladolid of the condition of the
emperor, fiUing his daughter Joanna and the queen of Hungary with the
deepest anxiety. Thev would willindy have gone at once to Yuste, and taken
charge of him in his illness had he allowed it. But when Quixada intimated
to Charles his sister's desire, he replied that she would not come, for that
she was too well acquainted with his wishes on the subject. The major-
domo hinted that his daughter, the regent, was equally anxious to visit mm,
and waited only her father's permission to come and nurse him in his ill-
ness. The emperor, however, who found much difficulty in speaking, from
the sorMiess of liis mouth, only shook his head, as if to intimate that it could
not be. But although his own family were excluded, his friend the grand-
master of Alcantara, on learning the critical condition of his master, came
over to Yuste, resolved on establishing his residence there till the fate of the
emperor was decided.

Charles's constitution was now fast sinking under the ravages of his dis-
order. As his weakness increased, the physicians endeavoured to sustain liim
by broths, and other simple and nourishing liquids, allowing him even a imall
quantity of his favourite beer. But his stomach refused to perforin, its
functions, or to retain the food which it received. On the eleventh of the
month, the tertian changed into what was called a double tertian. The ague
fits became more severe, and of longer duration. Frightful chills were suc-
ceeded by an access of fever, which ran so high that liis reason became af-
fected, and he lost all perception of what was passing around him. After
one of these paroxysms, on the seventeenth, he remained for twenty hours in
u state of utter insensibility. He was again attacked on the nineteenth, and,
although the fit was less severe, and of much shorter duration, the physi-
cians, fearing he would not sunive another, expressed their opinion that
the time had arrived for administering extreme unction.

The sound of these words fell like a knell on the ears of the faithful Quixada,

a?

573 CHABIiES RECEIVES EXTREME TJNCTION. [BOOK IV

who saw in imagination the portals of the tomb already opening to leceive his
master. His feelings are best expressed in his own letter addressed soon
after to the secretarj^ Vazquez, " The doctors say that the disease con-
stantly increases, while every hour, as his pulse shows, the emperor grows
more feeble. As for me, I cannot think he is so near his end ; and to-day_ his
mind has not wandered so much as during the last paroxysm. Ever since
noon I have prevented them from giving him extreme unction, fearing, though
he remains speechless, that it might disturb him. But as the physicians
insist that there is no time for further delay, I have told them that I would
be ready, and that they should watch the patient's pulse, and not give the
signal until they were certain that the time had come for it. I feel as if I
liad buried him already more than once. You can well understand how this
pierces my very heart." " Since the above was written," continues the major-
domo, "the physicians have pressed the matter so strongly, that extreme
unction has been administered to his majesty, although, as it seems to me, this
was somewhat premature. I have done as they advised, for they should know
best. You may well comprehend the condition of one like me, who for
seven-and-thirty years has served a master whom he is about to lose for ever.
May it please God totake him to himself, if he is to go, though I cannot help
repeating that in my judgment it wOl not be to-night. God be with him, and
with us all."

The ceremony, as Quixada says, in his affecting letter, was performed on
the evening of the nineteenth. It was conducted by the confessor E-egla,
attended by aU the brethren of the convent. The emperor preferred to re-
ceive the unction in the form adopted by the friars, which, comprehending
a litany, the seven penitential psalms, and sundry other passages of Scrip-
ture, was much longer and more exhausting than the rite used for the laity.
His strength, however, did not fail him. He joined with great devotion m
the services, which seemed to leave his mind in a state of holy calm, Kke
that of one whose thoughts were now turned to abetter life.

On tiie morning of the twentieth, he intimated his wish to be left alone with
Quixada. The interview lasted half an hour, during which Charles was
able to converse in a low but audible tone. One of the topics was the pensions
to be given to his domestics ; and he instructed Quixada to press upon Philip
the importance of punctuality in their payment. Another subject, still nearer
to his neart, had reference to Don John of Austria. He had made no provi-
sion for the child, thinking it perhaps more politic to leave him dependent on
Philip. It was the coui*se which his wise grandfather, Perdinand the Ca-
tholic, had pursued in respect to his younger grandson, Perdinand, whom,
though his especial favourite, he had left without a legacy, consigned to the
care of his elder brother Charles, the heir to the monarchy. As the event
proved, the goodwill of his brother was the best legacy that could have been
left him.

Soon after this conversation, the emperor again confessed, and expressed
his intention to receive the sacrament. The major-domo, fearing mat his
strength would not be equal to the ceremony, reminded him that this was
unnecessary as he had so lately received extreme unction. But the emperor
answered that " it was good provision for the long journey he was about to
set out upon." The condition of his throat had been such of late as fur-
nished a new argument to Quixada, who reminded his master that they
could not administer to him the sacred elements, as he would be unable to
swallow them. Charles replied, "I shall be able," in a tone of decision that
adjourned all further debate.

As it was feared that there might not be tune for the consecration of a
wafer by the perfonaance of the mass, that which was kept on the high

BOOK IV.] AERIVAL OF CAKRAJfZA, ARCHBISHOP OF TOLEDO. 579

altar of the church was brought by the confessor, Juan de Regla, accom-
panied, as before, by the brethren of the convent, who now, to the num-
ber of thirty or more, iilled the imperial cliamber. Charles received the
eucharist with the greatest devotion, saying, " Lord God of truth, our Re-
deemer, into thy hands I commit my spirit." Quixada then examined his
mouth, to see that no particle of the wafer adhered to it. After this, mass
was performed. Charles johied in the service wth silent but earnest de-
votion • and when the monks had reached that solemn invocation, " Lamb
of God, which taketh away the sin of the world, have mercy on us," the
dying monarch, feebly raising his hand, beat his breast, with looks of the
deepest humility and contrition. The ceremony, instead of fatiguing, seemed
rather to relieve him. A sweet comi)osure settled on his spirits, and con-
tinued to the last, unruffled by any further attacks of pain, while his facul-
ties remained unclouded.

During the rest of the morning he listened to passages from Scripture,
pointing out those wliieh he preferred, — among others, the Passion of our
Lord in St. Luke. Villalva accompanied the reading with such exhortations
as were suited to the condition of the emperor, who listened attentively, with
his eyes closed and his hands folded upon his breast. At noon Carranza, arch-
bishop of Toledo, who had been long expected, arrived at Yuste. He was the
same " black friar" — so called from his swarthy visage — who had made his
name famous by the part he took in the persecutions in England ; and he was
destined to become still more famous by the unmerited persecution which he
himself afterwards endured Irom the Inquisition. He had come from the Low
Countries, and brought tidings of Pliilip, by whom he had been recently
raised to the archiepiscopal see. Unfortunately, he had incurred the sus-
picions of the Holy Office on the score of his orthodoxy. His residence in
Germany, and his familiarity with the writings of Protestant scholars, had led
him, no doubt, to modify some of his early opinions. But though, like Pole.
Morone, and some other eminent churchmen of the time, he had adopted
more liberal views than were sanctioned by the council of Trent, he was at
heart as true a Roman catholic as the most implacable of his enemies. Some
around the emperor, among whom Regla, to jud^e from his subsequent con-
duct, was the most active, had infused doubts into the monarch's mind of
Carranza's orthodoxy. Charles was in no condition now to examine into
the affair ; and when the archbishop was introduced into his presence, and,
kneeling down by the bedside, kissed the hand of his master, the latter
gazed on him for a few moments in silence, and then bade him take some
repose.

The emperor's life was now fast ebbing away ; and his own sensations told
him that the scene must soon close. He desired Quixada to have in readi-
ness the holy candles brought from the sanctuary of Our Lady of Montserrat ;
;dso an image of the Virgin and a crucifix, which had comforted the empress
ill her extremity, and which Charles had preserved to solace his last hours.
Quixada, who saw that his master was sinking, sent for the archbishop of
Toledo, who, at the emperor's desire, read aloud some portions of Scripture,
— among the rest, that sublime Psalm, " Out of the depths, to Thee have I
cried." Then approaching the emperor's bedside, he knelt down^aud, hold-
ing up a crucifix, exclaimed : " Behold him who answers for all ! There is no
more sin : all is forgiven." These words fell upon other ears than those for
which they were intended ; and the confessor, Regla, made them the grounds
of a malicious complaint before the Holy Office, as impljiag an acqmescence
in the Protestant doctrine of justification by faith alone. The words gave
much scandal to more than one ecclesiastic in the room, as also to the grand-
master of Alcantara, who besought Villalva to prepare the emperor for his

2p2

580 DEATH OP CHARLES. [BOOK IT,

end by a more Catholic exposition of the Christian doctrines. The harsh and
disagreeable utterance of Carranza had caused so much annoyance to Charles,
that Quixada had thought it necessary to caution the primate to speak in a
lower tone. He was now succeeded by Yillalva, the favourite preacher of the
emperor, whom he had so often delighted with his soft, insinuating elo-
quence.

The Jeronymite resorted to very different sources of consolation from those
employed by the archbishop. " Your majesty," said he, " came into the world
on the day of St. Matthew ; you will leave it on that of St. Matthias. St.
Matthew and St. Matthias were two apostles, two brothers, bearing nearly
the same name, and both disciples of Jesus Christ. With such intercessors
yen can have nothing to fear. Let your majesty turn your heart with confi-
dence to God, who will this day put you in possession of glory." " Thus," in
the striking language of Mignet, " the two doctrines which divided the world
in the age of Charles the Fifth were once more brought before him on the bed
of death. ' He was in no condition to observe the peculiarities of these doc-
trines ; but his fainting spirit leaned with pious faith on the assurance which
they both gave him_ of happiness beyond the grave. A sweet serenity settled
on his features, " giving token," says the archbishop of Toledo, in a letter
written soon after to the regent, " of peace and inward security that filled all
who witnessed it with joy."

Besides the archbishop, the prior of Granada, Villalva, and two or three
other ecclesiastics, there were present in the chamber the count of Oropesa,
with some of his kindred, the grand-master of Alcantara, and a few of the
great lords, who had been in the habit of coming to pay their respects to the
emperor, and who were now gathered around his bedside, gazing mournfully
on his revered form, while the shadows of death were stealing over it. For
some hours there was sQence in the apartment, broken only by the low breath-
ings of the dying man. At length, rousing from his lethargy, Charles seemed
to feel a consciousness that his time had come. It was two hours after mid-
night, on the morning of the twenty-first of September. Placing his hand on
his pulse, he feebly shook his head, as if to intimate that all was over. He
then signed to Quixada to light the taper. At the same time the archbishop
placed the crucifix of the empress in his hand. Gazing on it for a moment,
he brought it to his lips, and then pressed it fervently on his breast. Tlie
archbishop, taking the crucifix from his relaxing grasp, held it up before the
glazed eyes of the emperor, who, holding the candle in liis right hand, and
supported by the faithful Quixada, exclaimed, "Now it is time." Then,
gazmg with unutterable longing on the sacred symbol, to him the memento
of earthly as well as heavenly love, he stretched forth his left hand as if to
embrace it, called on the name of Jesus, in tones so loud as to be distinctly
heard in tlie next apartment, and falling back on his pillow, with a convulsive
sigh, expired. He had always prayed,— fearing perhaps the hereditary taint
of insanity, — that he might preserve his reason to the last. His prayer was
granted.

All present were deeply touched by the solemn and affecting scene. The
grand-master of Alcantara, in a letter written that same day to the Princess
Joanna, expressed the happiness it gave him to think that he had been recog-
nised by the emperor to the last. Luis Quixada could hardly comprehend
that his master was no more, and, throwing himself upon the lileless remains,
gave way to an agony of grief. The body was suffered to lie upon the bed
during the following day. It was placed under the charge of four members
of the convent, who, with the major-domo, were the only persons that entered
the chamber of death. Quixada would often return during the day to look
at his beloved master. During his absence on one occasion, the Jeronymites,
as vre are informed by one of those on watch, felt a natural cuiiosity to see

BOOK IV.] HIS INTERMENT AT YU8TE. 5Sl

i lie emperor, who was shrouded by the curtains drawn closely around the bed.
They were restrained by a feeling of reverence for the dead and the fear of
di:>plcasiu«? Quixada. Curiosity at length prevailed; and drawing aside the
curtains, thev gazed with awe on the lifeless form before them. Instead of the
pallid hue of death, the coimtcnance was still tinned with a faint colour resem-
bling that of life. The expression, fixed as marble, was serene, telling that
the hard battle of life was at an end. The head was protected by a delicately
embroidered cap ; and a loose robe enveloped the person, on the upper part
of which was a covering of black sUk. On the breast, near the heart, lay the
silver crucifix which the hands of his wife had clasped in the hour of death, and
which was destined to comfort the latest moments of his son. Above the head
of Charles was suspended a picture of the Virgin, one of the relics which he
had reserved for this occasion. While thus gazing, the Jeronvmites heard
the step of Quixada approaching the chamber, and they speedily closed the
curtains.

The emperor's remains were secured in a leaden coffin, which was cased in.
another ot chestnut. They were then lowered through the window in his
apartment to the floor of the church. Here they were placed on a catafalque
which stood in the centre of the building, shrouded in black, and emblazoned
with the imperial arms. The waUs were also hung with black, while the blaze
of countless tapers shed a melancholy lustre over the scene. A vast con-
course of persons of every rank, from the surrounding countrj-, filled the edi-
fice. Among them were to be seen the monks of Cuacos and those of ditferent
religious communities in the neighbourhood. The members of the household
were aU clad in mourning. Amidst this solemn companv the manly form of
Quixada was conspicuous, muffled in a dark mantle, whicn concealed his fea-
tures. Byliis side was his royal charge, Don John of Austria, in sable weeds,
like himself. The events of that dav were well calculated to make a deep im-
pression on the mind of the gallant boy, who, after a brief but brilliant career,
claimed, as the best recompenee of his services, the i)rivilege of lying beside
his father in the stately mausoleum raised by Philip for the line of Austria.

For three davs the obsequies continued, under the direction of the arch-
bishop of Toledo. The Jeronjinites of Yuste, the Cordeliers of Jaraudilla, the
Dominicans of St. Catherine, joined in the funeral chant. A discourse was
delivered on each day, begmning with one by Charles's favourite preacher,
Vilialva. At Quixada's desire he had made minutes of what had passed in the
sick-chamber, and had artfully woven these particulars into his sermon, which
he delivered with a tender and impassioned eloquence that thrilled the hearts
of all who heard it.

During the services, a chair was placed in the choir to accommodate some
person or rank whose infirmities made it difficult for him to stand so long a
time. But Quixada, notwithstanding the remonstrance of the grand-master
of Alcantara, the friend of the party, indignantly caused the chair to be re-
moved, remarking that no one would have dared to sit in the presence of
the emperor when alive, and that no less respect should be shown to liim no\T
that he was dead. In this loyal sentiment ne was sustained by the general
^^ feeling of the audience, every one of whom remained standing throughout
I^K the whole of the lon^-protracted ceremonies.

I^f At the close of the third day, the emperor's interment took place, and
his remains were consigned to the earth amidst the tears and lamentations of
the multitude. The burial did not take place, however, without some ditfi-
culiy. Charles had requested, by his will, that he might be laid partially
under the great altar, and in such a manner that his head and the upper part
of his body might be under the spot where the priest stood when celebrating
mass. The request was made in all humility; but it raised a question
amons the scrupulous ecclesiastics as to tj»e propriety of permitting: any

582 CHAEIiES's BENEPACTIONS TO THE CONVENT. [bOOK IV.

bones save those of a saint to occupy so holy a place as that beneath the
altar. The dispute waxed somewhat warmer than was suited to the occa-
sion; till the momentous affair was finally adjusted by having an excavation
made in the wall, within which the head was introduced, so as to allow the
feet to touch the verge of the hallowed spot.

These mournful rites having been concluded, the archbishop of Toledo,
and the prior of Granada, together with some other of the high ecclesiastics
as well as of the nobles, took their departure. Their places, however, were
soon s'lpplied by the concourse from without, until the large church was
filled 1 '0 overflowing. The funeral services were protracted six days longer,
during which Yillalva continued his pious exhortations, in those warm and
touching tones that lingered long in the memory of his hearers. The reputa-
tion which he acquired by his fervid eloquence on this occasion, commended
him in a particular manner to the notice of Philip the Second, who after-
wards made him his principal preacher, as his father had done before him.

On the ninth day the ceremonies were terminated. The monks from the
neighbouring convents returned to their homes ; and the church was speedily
emptied of the crowd which had assembled there to pay the last tribute of
respect to their departed sovereign. Silence again settled upon Yuste ; and
the brethren of the convent resumed the quiet and monotonous way of life
which they had led before the coming of the emperor.

Juan de Ilegla, Quixada, and Gaztelu had been named as the executors of
Charles's will. To the two latter was committed the task of making an in-
ventory of his personal effects at Yuste. Their first care was to settle the
wages of the domestics, and pay the legacies bequeathed to them by their
master. This was soon done ; and in a few days they all took their depar-
tui'e for Valladolid. Some of them were received into the service of the
regent; but much the greater part, including the amiable Yan Male, re-
turned to their native country, the Netherlands, bearing letters of recom-
mendation to the king, and made richer by the pensions bequeathed to them
by their imperial master.

Charles had not forgotten the convent in his benefactions. He left twelve
hundred ducats to be distributed among its members, the stoves which had
been provided for his establishment, and the rich hangings of cloth and velvet
employed to decorate the church at his obsequies. But a gift of far more
value was the " Gloria,'' of Titian, which was stul permitted to hang upon the
walls of the monastery. It was, indeed, too precious to be allowed to remain
there long. Among the chattels left by Charles, his one-eyed horse, which he
had. bestrode only once after his arrival at Yuste, was appropriated by Luis
Quixada. But on Dr. Cornelius laying claim to one of the emperor's mules,
an order came from Valladolid that every article, however trilling, with the
exception of Quixada's pony, was to be reserved for the regent. Among the
royal trumpery was an Indian cat, and a parrot possessed of wonderful gifts
in the way of talking, great pets of Charles, with which he had been accus-
tomed to amuse his leism-e hours. They were presents from his sister,
•Catherine of Portugal, and they were now forwarded in a separate htter,
under an escort, to Valladolid. In short, everything in the house seemed to
have a particular value in Joanna's eyes, as a memorial of her father.

Quixada and Gaztelu, having at length completed their pairJul task, in
December took their final leave of the spot which they had always regarded
with feelings of aversion, and which was now associated in their minds with
the most saddening recollections. The major-domo removed with his family
to his residence at Villagarcia, from which he had so recently brought them.
There he and Doiia Magdalena continued to watch, with parental interest,
over the education of their royal charge. Phihp, in the meantime, in obedi-
ence to his father's wishes, recagnised Don John as the son of the emperor

BOOK IV.] FUNEKAL SERVICES AT VALLABOLID AJND BRUSSELS. 583

and a glorious career was thus opened to the ambition of the young prince,

which at the close of his short but eventful life, enabled him to leave an im-
perishable name in the annals of liis country.

The death of Charles the rifth caused a sensation throughout Christendom
inferior only to that occasioned by his abdication. By his own subjects,
indeed, the present event was felt still more sensibly, as their loss was far
greater. In his retirement, as we have seen, Charles still continued to ex-
ercise an important influence on public affairs. But now he was gone for
ever ; and the light of his wise counsels would no longer be shed on the diffi-
cult path of his young and inexperienced successor.

His obsequies were celebrated with "Tcat pomp by his daughter, at YaUa-
dolid. His friend, Francisco Borja, denverea the discourse on this occasion.
For his text he took the appropriate words, " Lo, then would I wander
afar oft' and remain in the wilaemess." He enriched his discourse with anec-
dotes and traits of the deceased monarch, whom he held up as a pattern of
Christian excellence. Among other facts he mentioned that Charles had once
informed him, that no day had passed since he was twenty-one years old
without his having devoted some portion of it to inward prayer.

Euneral services in Charles's honour were also performed in several other
places in Spain, as Toledo, Tarragona, Seville ; with greater pomp in Rome;
also in Naples, Lisbon, and Vienna ; but above all, in Brussels, the capital of
the Netherlands, where the ceremonies were conducted with extraordinary
splendour, in the presence of Philip and his court.

As soon as the kin^ had received tidiags of the death of his father, he
ordered that the bells in all the churches and monasteries throughout the
country shoidd be tolled tlirice a day for four months, and that no festivals
or public rejoicings should take place during that time. The twenty-eighth of
December was appointed for the celebration of the obsequies in the Flemish
capital. A procession was formed, consistiug of the great officers of the crown
in their robes of state, of the high ecclesiastics and nobles, and of the knights
of the Golden Fleece, wearing the superb insignia of their order. In the
midst the king was seen, on foot, with his features buried in a deep hood, and
his person muffled in a mourning cloak, the train of which was borne by his
favourite minister. Buy Gromez de Sdva. It was evening ; and as the long
procession moved by torch-light through the streets of the capital, it was
escorted by files of the Spanish and Grerman guards in their national unifonns,
marching to the low sounds of melancholv music, with a step so slow that it
required two hours to reach the place of their destination, the ancient church
of St. Gudule.

In the centre of the nave stood a pavilion, or chapel as it was rnlled,
shrouded in black, and lighted up bytliree thousand wax tapers. "AA iiiiin
might be seen a sarcophagus covered with dark velvet, on which lay the
iuiperial crown with the globe and sceptre. Opposite to the chapel a tfirone
was raised for the king, with seats below to accommodate the dignitaries of
the Church and the Flemish and Spanish nobles. The galleries above, fes-
tooned with drapery of black velvet and cloth of gold, richly emblazoned with
the imperial arms, were occupied by the ladies of the court. Never had so

grand and imposing a spectacle been witnessed within the waUs of this time-
onoured cathedral. The traveller who at this time visits the venerable pile,
where Charles the Fifth was wont to hold the chapters of the Golden Fleece,
wliile he gazes on the characteristic effigy of that monarch, as it is dis-
played on the superb windows of painted glass, may call to mind the memo-
rable day when the people of Flanders, and the rank'and beauty of its capitid,
were gathered together to celebrate the obsequies of the ":reat emperor ;
when, amidst clouds ot' incense and the blaze of myriads of lights, the deep
tones of the organ, vibrating tlwrough the long aisles, mingled with the

684 REMOVAL OF THE EMPEROR's BODY FROM YUSTE. [BOOK :

voices of the priest* as they chanted their sad requiem to the soul of theL.
departed sovereign.

In 1570— twelve years after the death of his father— Philip paid a visit to
the monastery of Yuste. As his carriage wound round the road by the garden
wall, he paused to read an inscription cut on the comer stone beneath the
imperial arms : — "In this holy house of Jerome of Yuste, Charles the Fifth,
emperor, king of the Spains, most Christian, most invincible, passed the close
of a life which he had devoted to the defence of the faith ana the maiatenance
of justice/' Alighting from his carriage, the king passed through the garden,
still filled with the sweet odours of the lime and the orange, and a wilderness
of flowering shrubs, that his father had loved to tend. On the wall of the
covered terrace the king might have read another inscription, recording the
day on which his father's last illness was supposed to nave begun. " His
majesty, the emperor Don Charles the Fifth, our lord, was sitting in this
place when he was taken iU, on the thirty-first of August, at four in the after-
noon._ He died on the twenty-first of September, at half-past two in the
morning, in the year of grace 1558." The former date should have been a
day earlier ; and the error shows that the record was made by the monks, as
it IS the same error into which the Jeronymite chroniclers have fallen in their
account of his illness.

Philip carefully examined every part of the dweUiag. From a feehng of
reverence he was unwilling to pass the night in his father's chamber, but occu-
pied a smaU room next to it, hardly large enough to accommodate his couch.
Two days were spent by him at Yuste. He does not seem to have been very
lavish of his bounty to the monks, leaving them, at his departure, nothing
better to remind them of his visit than some relics and a gold cup. He may
have thought that they had gained profit enough, as weU as honour, by the
emperor's residence among them. Not long after, he took from them the
picture which had become the pride of their convent,— the "Last Judgment"
of Titian. It was removed to the palace monastery of the Escorial, where
it found a more conspicuous place than in the obscure solitudes of Yuste.
The king replaced it by a faithful copy, to be hung over the high altar of the
chapel, which several years later was embellished with some rich decorations
by the hand of Herrera, the principal architect of the Escorial.

Not many years elapsed before the brethren met with a misfortune, which
touched them even more nearly than the loss of Titian's picture : this was
the removal of the emperor's body from tlieir convent. The circumstance of
his having selected Yuste as the retreat in which to pass the evening of his
days, was not more a source of pride to the monks of Sc. Jerome than that of
their being allowed to retain possession of his remains. But in the winter of
the year one thousand five hundred and seventy-four, the Escorial was so far
advanced as to be ready for their reception ; and Pliilip the Second put in ex-
ecution the plan he had formed of gathering togetlier the ashes of his kindred,
and depositing them in the superb mausoleum which he had consecrated to
the house of Austria. Arrangements were accordingly made for remo^dng
from the different places where they had been interred, the bodies of the
empress Isabella and two of her sons, who had died in early age, the remains
of Mary of Portugal, the first wife of Philip, and, lastly, those of Queen
Eleanor of France, from their resting-place at Merida.

The funeral procession met at Yuste, where they were joined by a deputa-
tion of the monks of St. Jerome, escorting the body of the emperor. Loud
was the lament of the brotherhood, as they saw the preparations that were
making for depriviag them for ever of their deceased sovereign. They felt
that the glory that had rested on their convent had departed for ever. The
orator chosen for the occasion gave utterance to his grief in a ^ush of warm,
impassioned eloauence, wUirli sl»ow*>d Him to be a worthy disciple of the

SOOK IT.] CHABLES'S KEMAINS INTERRED AT THE ESCORIAL. 535

school of Yillalva. Apostropliising the shade of Charles, he expatiated on
the feeling of love and reverence with which the brethren of luste would
ever cherish the memory of him who had condescended to take up his abode
among them. "The Ahnighty," said the speaker, " has confined all thinffs—
the heavens, the earth, and the sea — within their proper bounds. To love
alone he has set no limit." The people in the neighbouring country shared
in the grief of the Jeronj-mites, and seemed to feel that a portion of that
glory which the presence of the emperor had shed upon Yuste was reflected
upon them. As the lonsr procession took its way through Cuacos, whose
unruly peasantry, it may De remembered, had been a constant source of an-
noyance to Charles, the inhabitants^ expressed their regret by a dramatic
representation, in which the personifications of the Village and the Desert
were made to condole with each other, in rustic verse, on their bereavement.

In the procession were twenty-six friars of the mendicant orders, with eight
of the Jeronvmites from Yuste. The number was augmented by some of the
principal ecclesiastics and great lords of the court. Five mourning coaches
bore the bodies of the deceased ; and the funeral train performed its march so
slowly, that it was ten days before it reached its place of destination. A cloud
had long been gathering above the hills that surround the Escorial ; and as
the wayworn company entered the consecrated precincts, the storm beat with
fury on the grey walls of the monastery. It was amidst this turmoil of the
elements, making the vast edifice tremble to its foundation, that the peaceful
remains of Charles and his kindred were again committed to the earth.

The emperor's obsequies were conducted here with the same solemn pomp
that had attended them at Yuste. By a singular coincidence, the funeral
discourse was again pronounced by Villalva, now become the favourite
preacher of Philip the Second. The emperor's remains, agreeably to his desire,
were laid as nearly as possible beneath the altar, somewhat in front of it, by
the side of his beloved Isabella. Above, in a shrine of jasper, the statues of
the illustrious pair, executed in copper by Leoni, might be seen, in their finely
wrought mantles, kneeling side by side, with hands clasped, in an attitude of
devotion. Behind were the effigies of Charles's two sisters, the queens of
France and Hungary, kneelin» also, with hands outstretched, and their faces
turned towards the altar. The bodies of the two royal matrons were depo-
sited in the vault below, near that of their imperial brother ; and the friends
who had loved one anotner in life were not divided by death.

Yuste, which had been so long honoured as the residence of royalty, was
permitted to assume the title of royal. The palace became, in a particular
manner, the care of the government, aiid in 1638, Philip the Fourth appro-
priated six thousand ducats for placing it in complete repair. Little was
heard of it during the remainder of that century, or the following; and the
sorrowful prediction of the Jeronymite orator, that the day would come when
Charles's residence in the convent would pass from the memory of men, seemed
almost to be verified.

The obscurity of Yuste proved its best protection. The time was to come,
however, when this would cease to be so. During the Peninsular War, in
18 10. a party of French dragoons, foragmg in the neighboui-hood, found the
miu'dered body of one of their comrades not far from the gates of Yuste.
Not doubting that he had been made away with by the monks, the infuriated
soldierv broke into the convent, scattered its terrified inmates, and set fire
to the buildings in various places. For eight days the vast pile continued to
burn, with no attempt to check the conflagration. On the nmth it was left a
heap of smouldering ruins, a small remnant of the western cloister alone
surviving of the main body of the building. The church, from the strength
of its walls, was happily able to defy the flames, and served, in its turn, to
protect the palace, which, in the rear, nad alwajs leaned against it for support.

586 SUPPRESSION AlfD DECAY OF THE CONVENT AT YUSTB. [BOOK lY,

Tn. 1820, an irruption of the patriots from the neighbouring villages com-
pleted the work of destruction. They defaced the interior of the biuldinga
that yet remaiaed, despoiling them of every portable article of value, and
turning the church itself into a stable. The fine copy of Titian's Last Jud&
ment, which had hung above the high altar ever since the time of Philip tSe
Second, was appropriated by the liberals of Tejuela, and reserved to adorn
the walls of their parish-church.

StiU the monks, though scared from their abodes, continued to linger in
the neighbourhood, as loth to resign their early home, endeared to them by
manv glorious recollections. With the first glunpse of better times, a small
number of them returned to their ancient quarters, where they contrived for
themselves such accommodations as they could amidst the ruins of the clois-
ters. Here they were visited by more than one traveller, who bears testimony
that the brethren still retained their ancient virtue of hospitality, though thev
had but scanty means for the exercise of it. Their monastic life was destined,
however, to be of no long duration. In 1837 came the fatal decree for the
suppression of the convents ; and the poor Jeronymites, many of them broken
by age and infirmities, were once more turned adrift upon the pitiless world,
without even a grave to lie in.

Thus tenantless and neglected, Yuste has gone rapidly to decay. The tra-
veller who visits it now, as he works his way with difiiculty through the
tangled wilderness of shrubs ia what was once the garden, finds little to re-
mind him that the hand of cultivation was ever there. Yet just without the
walls he may still see the great walnut-tree of Yuste spreading its broad
arms over the spot where once the multitude was gathered to celebrate the
birthday of Charles, and where, as it is said, the monarch himself would often
sit and muse, — it may be on the faded glories of the past, or on the d^ker
future.

The stranger may now enter the palace without the need of the royal permit
which Charles the Fifth, as we have seen, thought of sufficient importance, to
make it the subject of a special injunction to his son Philip on his death-bed.
But as he wanders through the dreary and desolate chambers, now turned
into a magazine for grain and oKves, the visitor will find it no easy matter to
repeople tliem with the images of former days, when Charles gave audience
to foreign envoys in these very apartments, and when priests and nobles stood
around liis bed, hanging with awful reverence on the last accents of their dying
master.

Without, the touch of decay is upon everything. The church still stands ;
but the delicately carved wood-work of the choir, and the beautiful tiles that
adorned the walls, have fallen from their places, or been torn away by the
hand of violence. AU around, the ground is covered with the wreck of former
splendours, with fallen columns and shattered arches ; while the black and
scathed walls of the older cloister still tower in gloomy grandeur above the
scene of desolation. Yet even here kind Natm-e has been busy, as usual, in
covering up the ravages of time and violence, spreading over them her rich em-
broidery of wild flowers, and clothing the ghastly skeleton in a robe of beauty.*
^ Yuste lives only in the memory of the past. Already her name begins to
disappear from the map. But she will ever hold her place in history ; and
travellers from many a distant clime shall long repair to the memorable spot
where, withdrawn from the tm-moil of the world, lived and died the greatest
monarch of the sixteenth century.

* The most copious, as well as interesting, account of Yuste, in its present dilapidated
state, is to be found in Ford's " Handbook of Spain," vol. i. pp. 552, 553 (ed. 1845), and
in the closing pages of Stirling's " Cloister Life of Charles the Fifth." The rich and
eloquent description of both these writers show that they were inspired in full measure
by the genius loci.

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

Note (1), page 2. — The consternation of the Britons, when invaded by the Picts and
Caledonians, after the Roman legions were called out of the island, may give some idea
of the degree of debasement to which the human mind was reduced by long servitude
under the Romans. In their supplicatory letter to .^Etius, which they call the Groans of
Britain, " We know not (say they) which way to turn us. The barbarians drive us to
the sea, and the sea forces us back on the barbarians; between which we have only
the choice of two deaths, either to be swallowed up by the waves, or to be slain by the
sword." Histor. Gildae, ap. Gale, Hist. Britan. Script, p. 6. One can hardly believe
this dastardly race to be descendanta of that gallant people who repulsed Caesar, and
defended their liberty so long against the Roman arms.

(2), page 2. — The barbarous nations were not only illiterate, but regarded literature
with contempt. They found the inhabitants of all the provinces of the empire sunk in
eflfeminacy, and averse to war. Such a character was the object of scorn to a high-
spurited and gallant race of men. " When we would brand an enemy," says Luitprandus,
" with the most disgraceful and contumelious appellation, we call him a Roman ; hoc
solo, id est Romani nomme, quicquid ignobilitatis, quicquid timiditatis, quicquid avaritiae,
qnicquid luxuriae, quicquid mendacii, immo quicquid vitiorum est comprehendentes."
Luitprandi Legatio apad Murat. Scriptor. Italic, vol. ii. pars i. p. 481. This degeneracy
of manners, illiterate barbarians imputed to their love of learning. Even after they
settled in the countries which they had conquered, they would not permit their children
to be instructed in any science ; " For (said they) instruction in the sciences tends
to corrupt, enervate, and depress the mind ; and he who has been accustomed to tremble
under the rod of a pedagogue, will never look on a sword or spear with an undaimted
eye." Procop. de Bello Gothor. lib. i. p. 4, ap. Script. Byz. edit. Venet. vol. i. A con-
siderable number of years elapsed before nations so rude, and so unwilling to learn, could
produce historians capable of recording their transactions, or of describing their manners
and institutions. By that time, the memory of their ancient condition was in a great
measure lost, and few monuments remained to guide thpir first writers to any certain
knowledge of it. If one expects to receive any satisfactory account of the manners and
laws of the Goths, Lombards, or Franks, during their residence in those countries
where they were originally seated, from Jomandes, Paulns Wamefridus, or Gregory of
Tours, the earliest and most authentic historians of these people, he will be miserably
disappointed. Whatever imperfect knowledge has been conveyed to us of their ancient
state, we owe not to their own writers, but to the Greek and Roman historians.

(3), page 3. — A circumstance, related by Priscus, in his history of the embassy to
Attila, king of the Huns, gives a striking view of the enthusiastic passion for war which
prevailed among the barbarous nations. When the entertainment, to which that fierce
conqueror admitted the Roman ambassadors, was ended, two Scythians advanced towards
Attila, and recited a poem, in which they celebrated his victories and military virtues.
All the Huns fixed their eyes with attention on the bards. Some seemed to be delighted
with the verses; others, remembering their own battles and exploits, exulted with joy;
while such as were become feeble through age, burst out into tears, bewaiUng the decay
of their vigour, and the state ot inactivity in which they were now obliged to remain.
Ezcerpta ex Hbtoria Prisci Rhetoris, ap. Byz. Hist. Script, vol. L p. 45.

(^4), page 6.— A r emarkable confirmation of both parts of this reasoning occttrs in the

588 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

history of England. The Saxons carried on the conquest of that country with the same
destructive spirit which distinguished the other barbarous nations. The ancient inha-
bitants of Britain were either exterminated, or forced to take shelter among the moun-
tains of Wales, or reduced to servitude. The Saxon government, laws, manners, and lan-
guage, were of consequence introduced into Britain, and were so perfectly established,
that all memory of the institutions previous to their conquest of the country was, in a
great measure, lost. The very reverse of this happened in a subsequent revolution. A
single victory placed William the Norman on the throne of England. The Saxon in-
habitants, though oppressed, were not exterminated. William employed the utmost
efforts of his power and policy to make his new subjects conform in everything to the
Norman standard, but without success. The Saxons, though vanquished, were far
more numerous than their conquerors ; when the two races began to incorporate, the
Saxon laws and manners gradually gained ground. The Norman institutions becamo
unpopular and odious; many of them fell into disuse: and in the English constitution
and language at this day, many essential parts are manifestly of Saxon not of Norman
extraction.

(5), page 5. — Procopius, the historian, declines, from a principle of benevolence, to
give any particular detail of the cruelties of the Goths: " Lest," says he, "I should
transmit a monument and example of inhumanity to succeeding ages." Proc. de Bello
Goth. lib. iii. cap. 10, ap. Byz. Script, vol. i. p. 126. But as the change, which I have
jwinted out as a consequence of the settlement of the barbarous nations in the countries
formerly subject to the Roman empire, could not have taken place, if the greater part
of the ancient inhabitants had not been extirpated, an event of such importance and
influence merits a more particular illustration. This will justify me for exhibiting some
part of that melancholy spectacle, over which humanity prompted Procopius to draw
a veil. I shall not, however, disgust my readers by a minute narration ; but rest satisfied
with collecting some instances of the devastations made by two of the many nations
which settled in the empire. The Vandals were the first of the barbarians who invaded
Spain. It was one of the richest and most populous of the Roman provinces ; the inha-
bitants had been distinguished for courage, and had defended their liberty against
the arms of Rome, with greater obstinacy, and during a longer course of years, than any
nation in Europe. But so entirely were they enervated by their subjection to the
Romans, that the Vandals, who entered the kingdom a.d. 409, completed the conquest of
it with such rapidity, that, in the year 411, these barbarians divided it among them
by casting lots. The desolation, occasioned by tlieir invasion, is thus described by Idatius,
an eye-witness: " The barbarians wasted everything with hostile cruelty. The pestilence
was no less destructive. A dreadful famine raged to such a degree, that the living
were constrained to feed on the dead bodies of their fellow-citizens ; and all these terrible
plagues desolated at once the unhappy kingdoms." Idatii Chron. ap. Biblioth. Patrum,
vol. vii. p. 1233, edit. Ludg. 1677. The Goths, having attacked the Vandals in their
new settlements, a fierce war ensued ; the country was plundered by both parties ; the
cities which had escaped from destruction in the first invasion of the Vandals were
now laid in ashes, and the inhabitants exposed to suffer everything that the wanton
cruelty of barbarians could inflict. Idatius describes these scenes of inhumanity, ibid. p.
1235, b. 1236, c. f. A similar account of their devastations is given by Isidorus His-
palensis, and other contemporary writers. Isid. Chron. ap. Grot. Hist. Goth. 732. From
Spain the Vandals passed over into Africa, a.d. 428. Africa was, next to Egj^pt, the
most fertile of the Roman provinces. It was one of the granaries of the empire, and is
called by an ancient writer the soul of the commonwealth. Though the army with which
the Vandals invaded it did not exceed 30,000 fighting men, they became absolute mas-
ters of the province in less than two years. A contemporary author gives a dreadful
account of the havoc which they made: "They found a province well cultivated, and
enjoying plenty, the beauty of the whole earth. They carried their destructive arms
into every corner of it ; they dispeopled it by their devastations, exterminating every-
thing with fire and sword. They did not even spare the vines and fruit-trees, that those,
to whcra caves and inaccessible mountains had afibrded a retreat, might find no nourish-
ment of any kind. Their hostile rage could not be satiated, and there was no place
exempted from the eftects of it. They tortured their prisoners with the most exqui-
site cruelty, that they might force from them a discovery of their hidden treasures.

PEOOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 589

The more they discovered, the more thej expected, and the more implacablo foey be-
came. Neither tlie infirmities of age nor of sex ; neither the dignity or nobiHty nor the
sanctity of the sacerdotal otKce, could mitigate their fury ; but the more illustrious their
prisoners were, the more barbarously they insulted them. The public buildings, which
resisted the violence of the flames, they levelled with the ground. They left many cities
without an inhabitant. When they approached any fortified place which their undis-
ciplined army could not reduce, tiiey gathered together a multitude of prisoners, and
putting them to the sword, left their bodies unburied, that the stench of the carcases might
oblige the garrison to abandon it." Victor Vitensis de Persecutione Africana, ap. Bibl.
Patrum, vol. viii. p. 666. St. Augustin, an African, who survived the conquest of his
country by the Vandals some years, gives a similar description of their cruelties. Opera,
vol. X. p. 372, edit. 1616. About an hundred years after the settlement of the Van-
dals in Africa, Belisarius attacked and dispossessed them. Procopius, a contemporary
historian, describes the devastation wliich that war occasioned. " Africa," says he, " was
so entirely dispeopled, that one might travel several davs in it without meeting one
man ; and it is no exaggeration to say, that in the course of the war five millions of per-
sons perished." Proc. Hist. Arcana, cap. 18, ap. Byz. Script, vol. i. p. 315. I have
dwelt longer upon the calamities of this province, because they are described not only
by contemporary authors, but by eye-witnesses. The present state of Africa confirms
their testimony.' Many of the most flourishing and populous cities with which it was
filled were so entirely ruined, that no vestiges remain to point out where they were
situated. That fertile territory, which sustained the Roman empire, still lies in a great
measure uncultivated ; and that province, which Victor, in his barbarous Latin, called
Speciositas totius terrceflorerUis, is now the retreat of pirates and banditti.

While the Vandals laid waste a great part of the empire, the Huns desolated the
remainder. Of all the barbarous tribes, they were the fiercest and most formidable.
Ammianus MarcelUnus, a contemporary author, and one of the best of the later his-
torians, gives an account of their policy and manners, which nearly resemble those of
the Scythians described by the ancients, and of the Tartars known to the moderns.
Some parts of their character, and several of their customs, are not unlike those of the
savages in North America. Their passion for war was extreme. " As in polished
societies (says Ammianus) ease and tranquillity are courted, they delight in war a"nd
dangers. He who falls in battle is reckoned happy. They who die of old age or of disease
are deemed infamous. They boast, with the utmost exaltation, of the number of enemies
whom they have slain, and, as the most glorious of all ornaments, they fasten the scalps
of those who have fallen by their hands to the trappings of their horses." Ammian.
Marc. lib. xxxi. p. 477, edit. Gronov. Ludg. 1693. — Their incursions into the empire be-
gan in the fourth century ; and the Romans, though no strangers, by that time, to the
effects of barbarous rage, were astonished at the cruelty of their devastations. Thrace,
Pannonia, and lUyricum, were the countries which they first laid desolate. As they had
at first no intention of settling in Europe, they made only inroads of short continuance
into the empire; but these were frequent; and Procopius computes that in each of these,
at a medium, two hundred thousand persons perished, or were carried off as slaves.
Procop. Hist. Arcan. ap. Byz. Script, vol. i. 316. Thrace, the best-cultivated pro-
vince in that quarter of the empire, was converted into a desert; and, when Prisons ac-
companied the ambassadors sent to Attila, there were no inhabitants in some of the
cities, but a few miserable people, who had taken shelter among the ruins of the
churches; and the fields were covered with the bones of those who had fallen by the
sword. Prisons ap. Byz. Script, vol. i. p. 34. Attila became king of the Huns, a.d. 434.
He is one of the greatest and most enterprising conquerors mentioned in history. He ex-
tended his empire over all the vast countries comprehended under the general names of
Scythia and Germany in the ancient division of the world. While he was carrying on
his wars against the barbarous nations, i.e kept the Roman empire under perpetual
apprehensions, and extorted enormous subsidies from the timid and effeminate nionarchs
who governed it. In the year 451, he entered Gaul, at the head of an army composed
of all the various nations which ho had subdued. It was more numerous tlian any
with which the barbarians had hitherto invaded the empire. The devastations which
he committed were horrible ; not only the open country, out the most flourbhin^ cities
were desolated. The extent and cruelty of his devastations are described by SaTvianua
de Gubernat. Dei, edit. Baluz Par 1669, p. 139 &c., and by Idatius, ubi supra, p. 1235.

590 PROOPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

Mtixxa put a stop to his progress in that country by the famous battle of Chalons, in
which (if we may believe the historians of that age) three hundred thousand persons
perished. Idat. ibid. Jornandes de Kebus Geticis, ap. Grot. Hist. Gothor. p. 671.
Amst. 1665. But the next year he resolved to attack the centre of the empire, and
marching into Italy, wasted it with rage, mflamed by the sense of his late disgrace.
What Italy suiFered by the Huns, exceeded all the calamities which the preceding
incursions of the barbarians had brought upon it. Conringius has collected several
passages from the ancient historians, which prove that the devastations committed by
the Vandals and Huns, in the countries situated on the banks of the Rhine, were no
less cruel and fatal to the human race. Exercitatio de Urbibus Germanise, Opera, vol. L
p. 488. It is endless, it is shocking, to follow these destroyers of mankind through so
manjr scenes of horror, and to contemplate tlie havoc which they made of the human
species.

But the state in which Italy appears to have been, during several ages after the bar-
barous nations settled in it, is the most decisive proof of the cruelty as well as the
extent of their devastations. Whenever any country is thinly inhabited, trees and shrubs
spring up in the uncultivated fields, and, spreading by degrees, form large forests ; by
the overflowing of rivers, and the stagnating of waters, other parts ot it are converted
into lakes and marshes. Ancient Italy, which the Romans rendered the seat of elegance
and luxury, was cultivated to the highest pitch. But so eflectually did the devastations
of the barbarians destroy all the effects of Roman industry and cultivation, that in the
eighth century a considerable part of Italy appears to have been covered with forests
and marshes of great extent. Muratori enters into a minute detail concerning the situa-
tion and limits of several of these ; and proves, by the most authentic evidence, that great
tracts of territory in all the different provinces of Italy, were either overrun with wood,
or laid under water. Nor did these occupy parts of the country naturally barren or of
•little value, but were spread over districts which ancient writers represent as extremely
fertile, and which at present are highly cultivated. Muratori, Antiquitates Italics iledii
Mvi, dissert, xxi. v. ii. p. 149, 153, &c. A strong proof of this occurs m a description of
the city of Modena, by an author of the tenth century. Murat. Script. Rerum Italic,
vol. iii. pars. ii. p. 691. The state of desolation in other countries of Europe seems to
have been the same. In many of the most early charters now extant, the lands granted
to monasteries, or to private persons, are distinguished into such as are cultivated or in-
habited, and such as were eremi, desolate. In many instances, lands are granted to
persons because they had taken them from the desert, ab eremo, and had cultivated and

J)lanted them with inhabitants. This appears from a charter of Charlemagne, pub-
ished by Eckhart, de Rebus Francise Orientalis, vol. ii. p, 864, and from many char-
ters of his successors quoted by Du Cange, voc. Eremus. — Wherever a right of pro-
perty in land can be thus acquired, it is evident that the country must be extremely
desolate, and thinly peopled. The first settlers in America obtained possession of land
by such a title. Whoever was able to clear and to cultivate a field, was recognised as
the proprietor. His industry merited such a recompense. The grants in the charters
which I have mentioned flow from a similar principle, and there must have been some
resemblance in the state of the countries.

Muratori adds, that, during the eighth and ninth centuries, Italy was greatly in-
fested by wolves and other wild beasts ; another mark of its being destitute of inhabitants.
Murat. Antiq. vol. ii. p. 163. Thus Italy, the pride of the ancient world for its fertility
and cultivation, was reduced to the state of a country newly peopled and lately rendered
habitable.

I am sensible, not only that some of these descriptions of the devastations, which I have
quoted, may he exaggerated, but that the barbarous tribes, in making their settlements,
did not proceed invariably in the same manner. Some of them seemed to be bent on
exterminating the ancient inhabitants ; others were more disposed to incorporate with
them. It is not my province either to inquire into the causes which occasioned this
variety in the conduct of the conquerors, or to describe the state of those countries where
the ancient inhabitants were treated most mildly. The facts which I have produced are
sufficient to justify the account which I have given in the text, and to prove, that the de-
struction of the human species, occasioned by the hostile invasions of the northern nations,
and their subsequent settlements, was much greater than many authors seem to imagine.

PBOOrs AND ILLUSTKATIONS. 691

(6), page 6.— I have observed, Note 2, that our only certain inforniation concerning
the anc;ent state of the barbarous nations must be derived from the Greek and Roman
writers. Hippilj, an account of the institutions and customs of one people, to which
those of all the rest seem to have been in a great measure similar, has been transmitted
to us by two authors, the most capable, perhaps, that ever wrote, of observing them with
profound discernment, and of describing them with propriety and force. The reader
must perceive that Caesar and Tacitus are the authors whom I have in view. The former
gives a short account of the ancient Germans in a few chapters of the sixth book of his
Commentaries : the latter wrote a treatise expressly on that subject. These are the
most precious and instructive monuments of antiquity to the present inhabitants of
Europe. From them we learn,

1. That the state of society among the ancient Germans was of the rudest and most
simple form. They subsisted entirely by hunting or by pasturage. Caes, lib. vL c. 21.
They neglected agriculture, and lived chiefly on milk, cheese, and flesh. Ibid, c 22,
Tacitus agrees with him in most of these points ; De Morib. Germ. c. 14, 15, 23. The
Goths were equally negligent of agriculture. Prise Rhet. ap. Byz. Script, v. i. p. 31, B.
Society was in the same state among the Huns, who disdained to cultivate the earth, or
to touch a plough. Amm. MaroeL lib. xxxi. p. 475. The same manners took place
among the Alans ; ibid, p. 477. While society remains in this simple state, men by
•uniting together scarcely relinquish any portion of their natural independence. Accord-
ingly we are informed, 2. that the authority of civil government was extremely limited
among the Germans. During times of peace, they had no common or fixed magistrate,
but the chief men of every district dispensed justice, and accommodated diflferences.
Caes. ibid. c. 23. Their kings had not absolute or unbounded power ; their authority
consisted rather in the privilege of advising, than in the power of commanding. Matters of
small consequence were determined by the chief men; affairs of importance by the whole
community. Tacit, c. 7, 11. The Huns, in hke manner, deliberated in common concern-
ing every business of moment to the society ; and were not subject to the rigour of regal

authority. Amm. Marcel, lib. xxxL p. 474. 3. Every individual among the ancient

Germans was left at liberty to choose whether he would take part in any mihtary en-
terprise which was proposed ; there seems to have been no obhgation to engage in it im-
posed on him by pubhc authority. " When any of the chief men proposes an expedition,
such as approve of the cause and of the leader, rise up and declare their intention ot
following him : after coming xmder this engagement, those who do not fulfil it are con-
sidered as deserters and traitors, and are looked upon as infamous." Caes. ibid. c. 23-
Tacitus plamly points at the same custom, though in terms more obscure. Tacit, c.

11. i. As every individual was so independent, and master in so great a degree of

his own actions, it became, of consequence, the great object of every person among the
Germans who aimed at being a leader, to gain adherents, and to attach them to his per-
son and interest. These adherents Cajsar calls ambacii and dientes, L e. retainers or
clients ; Tacitus, comites, or companions. The chief distinction and power of the leaders
consisted in being attended by a numerous band of chosen youth. This was their pride
as well as ornament during peace, and their defence in war. The leaders gained or
preserved the favour of these retainers by presents of armour and of horses; or by the
profuse, though inelegant, hospitality with which they entertained them. Tacit, c 14,
15. 5. Another consequence of the personal hberty and independence which the Ger-
mans retained, even after they united in society, was their circumscribing the criminal
iurisdiction of the magistrate within very narrow hmits, and.,their not only claiming,
out exercising, almost all the rights of private resentment and revenge. Their magis-
trates had not the power either of imprisoning or of inflicting any corporal punishment on
a free man. Tacit, c. 7. Every person was obliged to avenge the wrongs which his
rarents or friends had sustained. Their enmities were hereditary, but not irreconcileable.
tven murder was compensated by paying a certain number of cattle. Tacit, c. 21. A
part of the fine went to the king, or state, a part to the person who had been injured,
or to his kindred. Ibid. c. 12.

Those particulars concerning the institutions and manners of the Germans, though well
known to every person conversant in ancient hterature, I have thought proper to arrange
in this order, and to lay before such of my readers as may be less acquainted with these
facts, both because they confirm the account which I have given of the state ot the bar-
barous nations, and because they tw\ to iUustnite all the obserrations I shall have occa>

592 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

Bion to make concerning the various changes in their government and customs. The laws
and customs introduced by the barbarous nations into their new settlements, are the best
commentary on the writings of Caesar and Tacitus ; and their observations are the best
key to a perfect knowledge of these laws and customs. One circumstance with respect
to the testimonies of Caesar and Tacitus concerning the Germans, merits attention.
Cffisar wrote his brief account of their manners more tnan a hundred years before Tacitus
composed his Treatise de Moribus Germanorum. A hundred years make a considerable
period in the progress of national manners, especially if, during that time, those people
who are rude and unpolished have had much communication with more civilized states.
This was the case with the Germans. Their intercourse with the Romans began when
Caesar crossed the Rliine, and increased greatly during the interval between that event
and the time when Tacitus flourished. We may accordingly observe that the manners
of the Germans,, in his time, which Caesar describes, were less improved than those of the
same people as delineated by Tacitus. Besides this, it is remarkable, that there was a
considerable difference in the state of society among the different tribes of Germans.
The Suiones were so much improved that they began to be corrupted. Tacit, c. 44.
The Fenni were so barbarous that it is wonderful how they were able to subsist. Ibid,
c. 46. Whoever undertakes to describe the manners of the Germans, or to found any
political theory upon the state of society among them, ought carefully to attend to both
these circumstances.

Before I quit this subject, it may not be improper to observe, that though successive
alterations in their institutions, together with the gradual progress of refinement, have
made an entire change in the manners of the various people who conquered the Roman
empire, there is still one race of men nearly in the same political situation with theirs,
when they first settled in their new conquests ; I mean the various tribes and nations o.
savages in North America. It cannot, then, be considered either as a digression, or as
an improper indulgence of curiosity, to inquire whether this similarity in their political
state has occasioned any resemblance between their character and manners. If the like-
ness turns out to be striking, it is a stronger proof that a just account has been given of
the ancient inhabitants of Europe, than the testimony even of Caesar or ot Tacitus.

1. The Americans subsist chiefly by hunting and fishing. Some tribes neglect agri-
culture entirely. Among those who cultivate some small spot near their huts, tliat,
together with all works of labour, is performed by the women. P. Charevoix, Journal
Historique d'un Voyage de I'Am^rique, 4to. Par. 1744, p. 334, In such a state of so-
ciety, the common wants of men being few, and their mutual dependence upon each
other small, their union is extremely imperfect and feeble, and they continue to enjoy
their natural liberty almost unimpaired. It is the first idea of an American, that every
man is born free and independent, and that no power on earth hath any right to diminish
or circumscribe Lis natural liberty. There is hardly any appearance of subordination,
either in civil or domestic government. Every one does what he pleases. A father
and mother live with their children, like persons whom chance has brought together,
and whom no common bond unites. Their manner of educating their children is suitable
to this principle. They never chastise or punish them, even during their infancy. As
they advance in years, they continue to be entirely masters of their own actions, and seem
not to be conscious of being responsible for any part of their conduct. Ibid. p. 272,

273. 2. The power of their civil magistrates is extremely limited. Among most of

their tribes, the sachem, or chief, is elective, A council of old men is chosen to assist
him, without whose advice he determines no affair of importance. The sachems neither
possess nor claim any great degree of authority. They propose and entreat, rather than
■command. The obedience of their people is altogether voluntary. Ibid. p. 266, 268.
— — 3. The savages of America engage in their military enterprises, not from con-
straint, but choice. When war is resolved, a chief arises, and offers ])imself to be the
leader. Such as are wiUing (for they compel no person) stand up one after another,
and sing their war-song. But if, after this, any of these should refuse to follow the
leader to whom tiiey have engaged, his life would be in danger, and he would be consi-
dered as the most infamous of men. Ibid. pp. 217, 218. 4. Such as engage to follow

any leader, expect to be treated by him with great attention and respect; and he is

obliged to make them presents of considerable value. Ibid. p. 218. 5. Among the

Americans, the magistrate has scarcely any criminal jurisdiction. Ibid, p. 272. Upon re-
ceiving any mjury, the person or family offended may inflict what punishment they

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 593

5 lease on the person who was the author of it. Ibid. p. 274. Thejr resentment and
esire of vengeance are excessive and implacable. Time can neither extinguish nor abate
it. It is the chief inheritance parents leave to their ciiildren ; it is transmitted from
generation to generation, until an occasion be found of satisfying it. Ibid. p. 309. Some-
times, however, the oflFended party is appeased. A compensation is paid for a murder
tlrit has been committed. The relations of the deceased receive it; and it consists most
' 'inmonly of a captive taken in war, who being substituted in place of the person who
\ as murdered, assumes his name, and is adopted into his family. Ibid. p. 274. The
resemblance holds in many other particulars. It is sufficient for my purpose to have
pointed out the similarity of those great features wliich distinguish and cnaracterise both
people. Bochart, and other philologists of the last century, who, with more erudition
than science, endeavoured to trace the migrations of various nations, and who were apt,
upon the slightest appearance of resemblance, to find an affinity between nations far re-
moved from each other, and to conclude that they were descended from the same ances-
tors, would hardly have failed, on viewing such an amazing similarity, to pronounce with
confidence, " that the Germans and tiie Americans must be the same people." But a phi-
losopher will satisfy himself with observing, " that the characters of nations depend on the
state of society in which they live, and on the political institutions establislied among
them ; and that the human mind, whenever it is placed in the same situation, will, in
ages the most distant, and in countries the most remote, assume the same form, and be
distinguished by the same manners."

I have pushed the comparison between the Germans and Americans no further than
was necessary for the illustration of my subject. I do not pretend that the state of
society in the two countries was perfectly similar in every respect. Many of the German
tribes were more civilized than the Americans. Some of them were not unacquainted
with agriculture ; almost all of them had flocks of tame cattle, and depended upon tliem
for the chief part of their subsistence. Most of the American tribes subsist by hunting,
and are in a ruder and more simple state than the ancient Germans. The resemblance,
however, between their condition, is greater, perhaps, than any that history affords an
opportunity of observing between any two races of uncivilized people, and tliis has pro-
duced a surprising similarity of manners.

(7), page 6. — The booty gained by an army belonged to the army. The king himself
had no part of it but what he acquired by lot. A remarkable instance of this occurs in
the history of the Franks. The army of Clovis, the founder of the French monarchy,
having plundered a church, carried off, among other sacred utensils, a vase of extraor-
dinary size and beauty. The bishop sent deputies to Clovis, beseeching him to restore
the vase, that it might V)e again employed in the sacred services to which it had been
consecrated. Clovis desired the deputies to follow him to Soissons, as tiie booty was ta
be divided in that place, and promised, that if the lot should give him the disposal of the
vase, he would grant what the bishop desired. When he came to Soissons, and all the-
booty was being placed in one great heap in the middle of the army, Clovis entreated
that, before making the division, they would give him that vase over and above his share.
All appeared willing to gratify the king, and to comply with his request, when a fierce and
haughty soldier lifted up his battle-axe, and, strikmg the vase with the utmost violence,,
cried out with a loud voice, *' You shall receive nothing here but that to which the lot
gives you a right." Gregor. Turon. Histor. Francorum, hb. ii. c. 27, p. 70, Par. 1610.

(8), page 7. — The history of the establishment and progres!! of the feudal system is an
interesting object to all the nations ot Europe. In some countries their jurisprudence
and laws are still in a great measure feudal. In others, many forms and practices esta-
blished by custom, or founded on statutes, took their rise from the feudal law, and cannot
be understood without attending to the ideas peculiar to it. Several authors of the
highest reputation for genius and erudition, have endeavoured to illustrate this subject,
but still many parts of it are obscure. I shall endeavour to trace, with precision, the
progress and variation of ideas concerning property in land among the barbarous nations ;
and shall attempt to point out the causes which introduced these changes, as well as
the effects which followed upon them. Property in land seems to have gone through lour
successive changes among the people who settled in the various provinces of the Komaa
empire.

So

594 PROOFS AND ILLUSTKATIONS.

I. While the barbarous nations remained in their original countries, their property \n
land was only temporary, and they had no certain limits to their possessions. After
feeding their flocks in one district, they removed with them, and with their wives and
families, to another; and abandoned tliat likewise in a short time. They were not, in
consequence of tliis imperfect species of property, brought under any positive or formal
obligation to serve the community ; all their services were purely voluntary. Every indi-
vidual was at liberty to choose how far he would contribute towards carrying on any
mihtary enterprise. If he followed a leader in any expedition, it was from attachment,
not from a sense of obligation. The clearest proof of this has been produced in Note 6.
While property continued in this state, we can discover nothing that bears any resem-
blance to a feudal tenure, or to the subordination and military service which the feudal
system introduced.

II. Upon settling in the countries which they had subdued, the victorious troops divided
the conquered lands. Whatever poi-tion of them fell to a soldier, he seized as the re-
compense due to his valour, as a settlement acquired by his own sword. He took posses-
sion of it as a freeman in full property. He enjoyed it during his own life, and could
dispose of it at pleasure, or transmit it as an inheritance to his children. Thus property
in land became fixed. It was at the same time allodial, i. e. the possessor had the
entire right of property and dominion ; he held of no sovereign or superior lord, to whom
he was bound to do homage and perform service. But as these new proprietors were in
some danger (as has been observed in the text) of being disturbed by the remainder of
the ancient inhabitants, and in still greater danger of being attacked by successive colo-
nies of barbarians as fierce and rapacious as themselves, they saw the necessity of coming
under obligations to defend the community more explicit than those to which they had
been subject in their original habitations. On this account, immediately upon their
fixing in their new settlements, every freeman became bound to take arms in defence of
the community, and, if he refused, or neglected so to do, was liable to a considerable
penalty. I do not mean that any contract of this kind was formally concluded, or mu-
tually ratified by any legal solemnity. It was established by tacit consent, like the other
compacts which hold society together. Their mutual security and preservation made it
the intei-est of all to recognise its authority, and to enforce the observation of it. We can
trace back this new obligation on the proprietors of land to a very early period in the his-
tory of the Franks. Chilperic, who began his reign a.d. 562, exacted a fine, hannos jvssit
eodgi, from certain persons who had refused to accompany him in an expedition. Gregor.
Turon. lib. t. c. 26, p. 2il. Childebert, who began his reign a.d. 576, proceeded in
the same manner against others who had been guilty of a like crime. Ibid. lib. vii. c. 42,
p. 342. Such a fine could not have been exacted while property continued in its first state,
and military service was entirely voluntary. Charlemagne ordained that every freeman
who possessed five mansi, i. e. sixty acres of land, in property, should march in person
against the enemy. Capitul. a.d. 807. Louis le Debonnaire, a.d. 815, gi-anted lands
to certain Spaniards who fled from the Saracens, and allowed them to settle in his terri-
tories, on condition that they should serve in the army like other freemen. Capitul. voL
i. p. 500. By land possessed in property, which is mentioned in the law of Charle-
magne, we are to understand, according to the style of that age, allodial land ; alodes and
proprietas, alodum and proprium, being words perfectly synonymous. Dn Cange, voce
Alodis. The clearest proof of the distinction between allodial and beneficiary possession,
is contained in two charters published by Muratori, by which it appears that a person
might possess one part of his estate as allodial, which he could dispose of at pleasure, the
other as a benejicium, of which he had only the usufruct, the property returning to the
superior lord on his demise. Antiq. Ital. Medii ^Evi, vol. i. pp. 559, 565. The same
distinction is pointed out in a capitulaire of Charlemagne, a.d. 812, edit. Baluz. vol. i.
p. 491. Count Everard, who married a daughter of Louis le Debonnaire, in the curious
testament by which he disposes of his vast estate among his cliildren, distinguishes be-
tween what he possessed />ro2?ne/ate, and what he \\Q\d. benejicio ; and itappearsth.it
the greater part was allodial, a.d. 837. Aub. Miraei Opera Diplomatica, Lovan. 1723,
vol. i. p. 19.

In the same manner liher homo is commonly opposed to vassus or vassallus ; the
former denotes an allodial proprietor, the latter one who held of a superior. These/ree
men were under an obligation to serve the state ; and this duty was considered as .so
lacred, that freenien were prohibited from entering into holy orders, unless they had

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. &95

obtained the consent of the sovereign. The reason given for this in the statate is re-
markable: " For we are informed that some do so, not so much oat of devotion, as in order
to avoid that military service which thej are bound to perform." Csipitul. lib. i. § 114.
If, upon being summoned into the field, any freeman refuse to obey, a full herebannum, i.
e. a fine of sixty crowns, was to be exacted from him according to the law of the Franks.
Capit. Car. Magn. ap. Leg. Longob. lib. i. tit. 14, § 15, p. 139. This expression, accord-
ing to the law of the Franks, seems to imply, that both the obligation to serve, and the
penalty on those wiio disregarded it, were coeval with the laws made by the Franks at
their first settlement in Gaul. This fine was levied with such rigour, " That if any
person con\'icted of this crime was insolvent, he was reduced to servitude, and con-
tinued in that state until such time as his labour should amount to the value of the
herehannum.'" Ibid. The Emperor Lotharius rendered the penalty still more severe ;
and if any person, possessing such an extent of property as made it incumbent on him
to take the field in person, refused to obey the summons, all his goods were declared to be
forfeited, and he himself might be punished with banishment. Murat. Script. Ital. vol. i.
pars ii. p. 153.

III. Property in land having thus become fixed, and subject to military service,
another change was introduced, though slowly, and step by step. We learn from Tacitus,
that the chief men among the Germans endeavoured to attach to their persons and in-
terests certain adherents whom he calls comites. These fought under their standard, and
followed them in all their enterprises. The same custom continued among them in their
new settlements, and those attached or devoted followers were called j^cfeZe^, antjiistiones,
homines in truste dominica, leudes. Tacitus informs us, that the rank of a comes was
deemed honourable ; De Morib. Germ. c. 1 3. The composition, which is the standard by
which we must judge of the rank and condition of persons in the middle ages, paid for the
murder of one in truste dominica, was triple to that paid for the murder of a free man.
Leg. Salicor. tit, 44, § 1 et 2. While the Germans remained in their own country-, they
courted the favour of these comites by presents of arms and horses, and by hospitality.
See Note 6. As long as they had no fixed property in land, these were the only gifts that
they could bestow, and the only reward which their followers desired. But upon their
settling in the countries which they conquered, and when the value of property came
to be understood among them, instead of those slight presents, the kings and chieftains
bestowed a more substantial recompense in land on their adherents. These grants were
called benejicia, because they were gratuitous donations ; and hanores, because they were
regarded as marks of distinction. What were the services originally exacted in return for
these benejicia cannot be determined with absolute precision ; because there are no records
so ancient. When allodial possessions were first rendered feudal, they were not, at once,
subjected to all the feudal services. The transition here, as in all other changes of im-
portance, was gradual. As the great object of a feudal vassal was to obtain protection,
when allodial proprietors first consented to become vassals of any powerful leader, they
continued to retain as much of their ancient independence as was consistent with that
new relation. The homage which they did to their superior, of whom they chose to hold,
was called homagium planum, and bound them to nothing more than fidelity, but with-
out any obligation either of military service or attendance in the courts of their superior.
Of this homagium planum some traces, though obscure, may still be discovered. Bmssel,
torn. i. p. 97. Among the ancient writs published by D. D. De Vic. and Vaisette, Hist,
de Langued., are a great many which they call homagia. They seem to be an interme-
diate step between the homagium planum mentioned by Brussel, and the engagement
to perform complete feudal service. The one party promises protection, and grants cer-
tain castles or lands ; the other engages to defend the person of the granter, and to assist
him likewise in defending his property as often as he shall be summoned to do so. But
these engagements are accompanied with none of the feudal formalities, and no mention
is made of any of the other feudal services. They appear rather to be a mutual contract
oetween equals, than the engagement of a vassal 'to perform services to a superior lord.
Prenves de I'Hist. de Lang. tom. il 173, et passim. As soon as men were accustomed
to these, the other feudal services were gradually introduced. M. de Montesquieu consi-
ders these beneficia as fiefs, which originally subjected those who held them to railitarr
service. L'Esprit des Loix, 1. xxx. c. 8 et 16. M. I'Abb^ de RIably contends, that such
as held these were at first subjected to no other service than w^hat was incumbent on
every free man. Observations sur I'Histoire de France, i. 356. But upon comparing theif

2 q2

696 -PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

proofs and K-*!Soningi> and conjectures, it seems to be evident, that as every free man,
m consequence of his allodial property, was bound to serve the community under a severe
penalty, no good reason can be assigned for conferring these benejicia, if they did not
subject such as received them to some new obligation. Why should a king have stripped
himself of his domain, if he had not expected that, by parcelling it out, he might ac-
quire a right to services, to which he had formerly no title ? We may then warrantably
conclude, " That as allodial property subjected those who possessed it to serve the com-
munity, so benejicia subjected such as held them to personal service and fidelity to him
from whom they received these lands." These benejicia were granted originally only
during pleasure. No circumstance relating to the customs of the middle ages is better
ascertained than this ; and innumerable proofs of it might be added to those produced
in L'Esprit des Loix, Ixxx. c. 16, and by Du Cange, voc. Beneficium et Feudum.

IV. But the possession of benefices did not continue long in this state. A precarious
tenure during pleasure was not sufficient to satisfy such as held lands, and by various
means they gradually obtained a confirmation of their benefices during life. Feudor. lib.
i. tit. i. Du Cange produces several quotations from ancient charters and chronicles
in proof of this ; Gloss, voc. Benejicium. After this it was easy to obtain or extort
charters rendering benejicia hereditary, first in the direct line, then in the collateral, and
at last in the female line. Leg. Longob. lib. iii. tit. 8. Du Cange, voc. Benejicium.

It is no easy matter to fix the precise time when each of these changes took place.
M. I'Abbe Mably conjectures, with some probability, that Charles Martel first introduced
the practice of granting benejicia for life : Observat. tom. i. p. 103, 160 ; and that Louis
le Debonnaire was among the first who rendered them hereditary, is evident from the
authorities to which he refers ; Ibid. 429. Mabillon, however, has pubhshed a placitum
of Louis le Debonnaire, a.d. 860, by which it appears, that he still continued to grant
some benejicia only during life. De Re Diplomatica, lib. vi. p. 353. In the year 889,
Odo, king of France, granted lands to " Ricabodo fideli suo, jure beneficiario et fructuario,"
during his own life ; and if he should die, and a son were born to him, that right was to
continue during the life of his son. Mabillon, ut supra, p. 556. This was an intermediate
step between fiefs merely during life, and fiefs hereditary to perpetuity. While benejicia
continued under their first form, and were held only during pleasure, he who granted
them not only exercised the dominium^ or prerogative of superior lord, but he retained
the property, giving his vassal only the usujruci. But under the latter form, when they
became hereditary, although feudal lawyers continued to define a benejicium agreeably to
its original nature, the property was in effect taken out of the hands of the superior lords,
and lodged in those of the vassal. As soon as the reciprocal advantages of the feudal
mode of tenure came to be understood by superiors as well as vassals, that species of
holding became so agreeable to both, that not only lands, but casual rents, such as the
profits of a toll, the fare paid at ferries, &c., the salaries or perquisites of offices, and even
pensions themselves, were granted and held as fiefs ; and military service was promised
and exacted on account of these. Morice, Mdm. pour servir de Preuves a I'Hist.
de Bretagne, tom. ii. 78, 690. Brussel, torn. i. p. 41. How absurd soever it may
seem to grant or to hold such precarious and casual property as a fief, there are instances
of feudal tenures still more singular. The profits arising from the masses said at an
altar, were properly an ecclesiastical revenue, belonging to the clergy of the church or
monastery which performed that duty; but these were sometimes seized by the powerful
barons. In order to ascertain their riglit to them, they held them as fiefs to the church,
and parcelled them out in the same manner as other property to their sub-vassals.
Bouquet, Recueil des Hist. vol. x. 238, 480. The same spirit of encroachment which
rendered fiefs hereditary, led the nobles to extort from their sovereigns hereditary grants
of offices. Many of the great offices of the crown became hereditary in most of the king-
doms in Europe; and so conscious were mcnarchs of this spirit of usurpation among the
nobility, and so solicitous to guard against it, that, on some occasions, they obliged the
persons whom they promoted to any office of dignity, to grant an obligation, that, neither
they nor their heirs should claim it as belonging to them by hereditary right. A remark-
able instance of this is produced, M^m. de I'Acad. des Inscrip. tom. xxx. p. 595.
Another occurs in the Thesaur. Anecdot. published by Martene et Durand, vol. i. p.
873. — This revolution in property occasioned a change corresponding to it in political
government ; the great vassals of the crown, as they acquired such extensive possessions-
usurped a proportional degree of power, depressed the jurisdiction of the crown, and

PBOOrS AND ILLTJ8TEATION8. 597

trampled on the privileges of the people. It is on account of this 50°?®?"°°' ^ji*^ l^^/
00^63 an obiect of importance in history to trace the progress of feudal property ; for,

irS'si :tir £« ort«^ ^^ rs s^r^^rs;

Sihe beg nn^?,g of the tenth century!^ The "former species of property seems to be
sJ much bettei and niore desirable than the latter, that such a change appears sur-
prisTnges Wily when we are informed that aUodial property was frequently converted
Fn^e^dXy a voluntary- deed of the possessor. The motives which f teamed them
to a choic so^epugnant to the ideas of modern t^^es concerning property have be^^^^^^^
vP^ticTsifpd and exnlained by M. de Montesquieu, with his usual discernment and accuracy,
Ub fxS c 8 The most considerable^ that of which we have a hint in Lambertu«
ArdensS; an ancient writer quoted by Du Cange, voce ^^^^:J^^^^^JZlJ
anarcliv knd disorder which became general in Europe after the death ot bharlemagne
XnLrf was scarcely any union among the different members of the community, ana
kd vidua s ^re expos^, single and undefended by government, to rapine and oppression
irbecame n^cessarv for every man to have a powerful protector, under whose banner he
mitht r^LriiiS, Sd obtain security against enemies whom singly he could not op-
S Fof ths rea o^^he relinquished his aUodial independence, and subjected himself
S the feudal erSe^ that he might find safety under the patronage of some respectable
uper^or li some parts of Europe, this chan/e from allodi.1 to fe^da £0^^^^^^ ^e^me
so general that he who possessed land had no longer any hberty of choice left. He was
TblSed to^ecognL ome liege lord, and to hold of him. Thus Beaumano.r informs
^s ThVinTe'counties of clermonl and Beauvois, if the lord or jun .^^^^^^^^^
Un(U within his iurisdiction for which no service was periormed, and which paid to mm
notx:fo "customs, he might instantly seize it as his own ; for says he, according to on
custom no man can hold allodial property. Const, chap. 24, P- l?^^' , ^Fn t'le sa^^^
nrinciole is founded a maxim, which has at length become general in the law ot France
^3/e teT^e *arr5ei9«e«r. In other provinces of France, allodial property seems to
£ve retlfnedTongS unalienated, and to have been more highly valued A great num-
ber of charters, containing grants or sales, or exchanges of ^llo^'^l Jf <^%^V^X Z
^Laneuedoc are published Hist. G^ndr. de Langued. par D. D. De Vic. et Vaisette, tom^
ii^ Durfngthe Jnt^h, tenth, and great part of the eleventh century he Prg^^^^^^^
urovince seems to have been entirely allodial; and scarcely any mention of J^idal tenures
occus in Te deeds of that country. The state of property, dunng these centuries
seem, to have been perfectly similar in Catalonia and the country of Rousillon, as appeara
fronTthe original charters published in the Appendix to Petr. de l^^^^^^,^ ^^^^f ^^^^
Marca sive Eimite Hispani?o. AUodial property seems to have continue^^^^^^^^ Low
Countries to a period still later. Dunng the eleventh, twelfth, 1°^ .^^^f^^'^^^

I lies this species of property appears to have been of considerable extent. Mirsei Upera
';i:m.vol.r34, 74,^5! d, 8T7 296,842 847, ^78. Some vest^es of aH^d^^^^^^^^
rfv Hnnear there as late as the fourteenth century. Ibid. 218. beveral tacts wnica
% E anoS property subsisted in ^iffer-t pa^ts of E-ope^-g after t-
iction of feudal tenures, and which tend to illustrate the distinction fe ^een tljese tvvo
fferent species of possession, are produced by M. Houard Anciennes Loix des^ranms
nserve'es^ans les^Coutumes Angloise^ vc^, i. ?• 192, &c. The no^ons of m^^^^^^^^^^^
^npot to nronertv vary according to the diversity of their understandings, ana tne
ca^S of tlfei?';:^ions. ' At the sa'me time that som'e persons were fond of relinqu^^^^^^^^
allodial property, in order to hold it by feudal tenure, others seem to hav e been sol c^^^^^^^^
to convert their fiefs into allodial property. An instance of tins occurs in a ch^^^ter ot
Louis le D^onnaire, published by Eckhard, Commentani de Hebus Franciae ^"entalis,
W U. p isrAnothe? occurs in L year 1299 Reliquiae MSS, omnis ^^«>y ^ud^^^^^^
vol. i. p. 209 ; and even one as late as the year 1337, ibid. voL vii. p. 40. The same taing
took nlace in the Low Countries. Miraei Oper. i. 62. ,.^,j. v-^ „„r,finfl/i

In tracing these various revolutions of propertjr, I have ^^^J^'^t^^^^.^^ .'^^"tva
myself ti wEat happened in France, because the ancient monuments of that nation hay«

598 PEOors and illustrations.

either been more carefully preserved or have been more clearly illustrated than those of
any people in Europe.

In Italy, the same revolutions happened in property, and succeeded each other in the
same order. There is some ground, however, for conjecturing, that allodial property
continued longer in estimation among the Italians than among the French. It appears
that many of the charters granted by the emperors in the ninth century conveyed an
allodial right to land. Murat. Antiq. Med. ^Evi, vol. i. p. 575, &c. But in the eleventh
century, we find some examples of persons who resigned their allodial property, and
received it back as a feudal tenure, ibid. p. 610, &c. ^Muratori observes, that the word
feudum, which came to be substituted in place of beneficium, does not occur in any au-
thentic charter previous to the eleventh century. Ibid. 594. A charter of King Robert
of France, a.d. 1008, is the earliest deed in which I have met with the word feudum.
Bouquet, Recueil des Historiens des Gaules et de la France; torn. x. p. 593, b. This
word occurs, indeed, in an edict, a.d. 790, published by Brussel, vol. i. p. 77. But the
authenticity of that deed has been called in question, and perhaps the frequent use of
the yfoxdi feudum in it, is an additional reason for doing so. The account which I have
given of the nature both of allodial and feudal possessions receives some confirmation
from the etymology of the words themselves. Alode or allodium is compounded of the
German article an and lot^ i. e, land obtained by lot. Wachtei-i Glossar. Germanicum,
voc. Allodium, p. 35. It appears from the authorities produced by him, and by Du
Cange, voc, Sors, that the northern nations divided the lands which they had conquered
in this manner. Feodum is compounded of od, possession or estate, and feo, wages,
pay; intimating that it was stipendiary, and granted as a recompense for service.
Wachterus, ibid. voc. Feodum, p. 441.

The progress of the feudal system among the Germans was perfectly similar to
that which we have traced in France. But as the emperors of Germany, especially
after the imperial crown passed from the descendants of Charlemagne to the house of
Saxony, were far superior to the contemporary monarchs of France in abiUties, the im-
perial vassals did not aspire so early to independence, nor did they so soon obtain the
privilege of possessing their benefices by hereditary right. According to the compilers
of the Libri Feudorum, Conrad. II. or the Salic, was the first emperor who rendered fiefs
hereditary. Lib. i. tit. i. Conrad began his reign, a.d. 1024. Ludovicus Pius, under
whose reign grants of hereditary fiefs were frequent in France, succeeded his fother a.d.
814. Not only was this innovation so much later in being introduced among the vassals
of the German emperors, but even after Conrad had established it, the law continued
favourable to the ancient practice ; and unless the charter of the vassal bore expressly
that the fief descended to his heirs, it was presumed to be granted only during life. Lib.
Feud. ibid. Even after the alteration made by Conrad, it was not uncommon in Germany
to grant fiefs only for life. A charter of this kind occurs as late as the year 1376. Charta
ap. Boehmer. Princip. Jur. Feud. p. 361. The transmission of fiefs to collateral and
female heirs took place very slowly among the Germans. There is extant a cl)arter,
A.D. 1201, conveying the right of succession to females ; but it is granted as an extraor-
dinary mark of favour, and in reward of uncommon services. Boehmer. ibid. p. 365.
In Germany, as well as in France and Italy, a considerable part of the lands continued
to be allodial long after the feudal mode of tenure was introduced. It appears from the
Codex Diplomaticus Monasterii Buch, that a great part of the lands in the marquisate
of Misnia was still allodial as late as the thirteenth century. No. 31, 36, 37, 46, &c.
ap. Scriptores Hist. German, cura Schoetgenii et Kreysigii. Altenb. 1755, vol. ii. 183,
&c. Allodial property seems to have been common in another district of the same pro-
vince, during the same period. Rehquiaj Diplomaticaj Sanctimonial. Beutiz. No. 17, 36,
58, ibid. 374, &c.

(9), page 8. — As I shall have occasion, in another note, to represent the condition of
that part of the people who dwelt in cities, I will confine myself in this to consider the
state of the inhabitants of the country. The persons employed in cultivating the ground
during the ages under review may be divided into three classes: I. Servi, or slaves.
This seems to have been the most numerous class, and consisted either of captives takea
in war, or of persons, tlie property in whom was acquired in some one of the various
methods enumerated by Du Cange, voc. Servus, v. 6, p. 447. The wretched condition of
this numerous race of men wiU appear from several circumstances. 1. Their masters

i

ma

II
it

PROOFS A:N[D ILLt'STEA.T10i?S. 599

had absolute dominion over their persons. They had the power of punishing their slavei

capitally, witliout the intervention of any judge. This dangerous right thej^ possessed,

not only in the more early periods when their manners were fierce, but it continued as late

as the twelfth century. Iloach. Potgiesserus de Statu Servorum. Lemgov. 1736, 4to. lib.

cap. i. § 4, 10, 13, 24. Even atrer this jurisdiction of masters came to be restrained,

e life of a shive was deemed to be of so little value, that a very slight compensation

>ned for taking it away. Idem, lib. iii. c. 6. If masters had power over the lives of their

ves, it is evident that almost no bounds would be set to the rigour of the punishments

hich they miglit inflict upon them. The codes of ancient laws prescribed punishments

for the crimes of slaves different from those which were inflicted on freemen. The latter

¥iid only a fine or compensation ; the former were subjected to corporal punishments,
he cruelty of these was, in many instances, excessive. Slaves might be put to the
rack on very slight occasions. Tiie laws, with respect to these points, are to be found in
Potgiesserus, lib. iii. cap. 7, 2, and are shocking to humanity. 2. If the dominion of
masters over the lives and persons of their slaves was thus extensive, it was no less so
over their actions and property. They were not originally permitted to marry. Male
and female slaves were allowed, and even encouraged, to cohabit together. But this
union was not considered as a. marriage: it was called contij^emium, not nuptice or
matrimonmm. Potgiess. lib. ii. c. 2, §1. This notion was so much established, that,
ring several centuries after the barbarous nations embraced the Christian religion,
ves, who lived as husband and wife, were not joined together by any religious cere-
ony, and did not receive the nuptial benediction from a priest. Ibid. § 10, 11. When
is conjunction between slaves came to be considered as a lawful marriage, they were not
rmitted to many without the cor.sent of their master, and such as ventured to do so,
. ithout obtaining that, were punished with great severity, and sometimes were put to
death. Potgiess. Ibid. § 12, &c. Gregor. Turon. Hist. lib. v. c. 3. When the manners
of the European nations became more gentle, and their ideas more liberal, slaves who
married without their master's consent were subjected only to a fine. Potgiess. Ibid. §
20. Du Cange, Gloss, voc. Forismaritagium. — 3. All the children of slaves were in the
same condition with their parents, and became the property of the master. Du Cange,.
Gloss, voc. Sermis, vol. vi. 450. Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. i. 766. — 4. Slaves were so en-
tirely the property of their masters, that they could sell them at pleasure. While do-
mestic slavery continued, property in a slave was sold in the same manner with that
which a person had in any other moveable. Afterwards sl&ves hecame adscripti glebce,
and were conveyed by sale, together with the farm or estate to which they belonged.
Potgiesserus has collected the laws and charters which illustrate this well-known circum-
stance in the condition of slaves. Lib. ii. c. 4. — 5. Slaves had a title to nothing but sub-
sistence and clothes from their master; all the profits of their labour accrued to him.
If a master, from indigence, gave his slaves any pectiHum, or fixed allowance for their
subsistence, they bad no right of property in what they saved out of that. All that
they accumulated belonged to their master. Potgiess. lib. ii. c. 10. Murat. Antiq. Ital.
vol.' i. 768. Du Cange, voc. Sertms, vol. vi. 451. Conformably to the same principle, all
the effects of slaves belonged to their master at their death, and they could not dispose
of them by testament. Potgiess. lib. ii. c. 11. — 6. Slavey were distinguished from free-
men by a peculiar dress. Among all the barbarous nations, long hair was a mark of
"ignity and freedom ; slaves were, for that reason, obliged to shave their heads ; and by
is distinction, how indifferent soever it may be in its own nature, they were reminded
ery moment of the inferiority of their condition. Potgiess. lib. iii. c. 4. For the same
ason, it was enacted in the laws of almost all the nations of Europe, that no slave
ould be admitted to give evidence against a freeman in a court of justice. Du Cange,
c. Servus, vol. vi. p. 451. Potgiess. lib. iii. c. 3.

II. Villani. They were likewise adscripti glebce or villm, from which they derived
their name, and were transferable along with it. Du Cange, voc. Villamis. But in

Eiis thev differed from slaves, that they paid a fixed rent to their master for the land
hich they cultivated, and, after paying that, all the fruits of their labour and industry
ilsnged to themselves in property, this distinction is marked by Pierre de Fontain'a
onseil. Vie de St. Louis par Joinville, p. 119, feflil, de Du Cange. Several cases, de-
ded agreeably to this principle, are mentioned by Murat. Ibid. p. 773.
III. The last class of persons employed in agriculture were freemen. These are
dktinguished by various names among the writers of the middle ages, arimanni, con-

inei

i

6C0 PROOFS AND ILLTJSTRATIONS.

ditionales, originarii, tributales, &c. These seem to have been persons who possessed
some small allodial property of their own, and besides that, cultivated some farm be-
longing to their more wealthy neighbours, for which tliey paid a fixed rent; and bound
themselves likewise to perform several small services in prato vel in messe, in aratura
vel in vinea, such as ploughing a certain quantity of their landlord's ground, assisting
him in harvest^ and vintage work, &c. The ck-arest proof of this may be found in
Muratori, vol. i. p. 712, and in Du Cange, under the respective words above men-
tioned. I have not been able to discover whether these arimanni, &c. were removeable
at pleasure, or held their farms by lease for a certain number of years. The former, if
we may judge from the genius and maxims of the age, seems to be most probable. These
persons, however, were considered as freemen in the most honourable sense of the word ;
they enjoyed all the privileges of that condition, and were even called to serve in war ;
an honour to which no slave was admitted. Murat. Antiq. vol. i. p. 743, vol. ii. p.
446. This account of the condition of these three different classes of persons will enable
the reader to apprehend the full force of an argument which I shall produce in con-
firmation of what I have said in the text concermng the wretched state of the people
during the middle ages. Notwithstanding the immense difference between the first of
these classes and the third, such was the spirit of tyranny which prevailed among the
great proprietors of lands, and so various tneir opportunities of oppressing those who
were settled on their estates, and of rendering their condition intolerable, that many free-
men, in despair, renounced their liberty, and voluntarily surrendered themselves as
slaves to their powerful masters. This they did, in order that their masters might be-
come more imm.ediately interested to afford them protection, together with the means of
subsisting themselves and their families. The forms of such a surrender, or ohnoxiatio,
as it was then called, are preserved by Jilarculfus, lib ii. c. 28 ; and by the anonymous
author, published by M. Bignon, together with the collection o^ formulae compiled by Mar-
culfus, c. 16. In both, the reason given for the obnoxiatio, is the wretched and indigent
condition of the person who gives up his liberty. It was still more common for freemen
to surrender their liberty to bishops or abbots that they might partake of the security
which the vassals and slaves of churches and monasteries enjoyed, in consequence of
the superstitious veneration paid to the saint under whose immediate protection they
were supposed to be taken. Du Cange, voc. Oblatus, vol. iv. p. 1286. That condition
must have been m.iserable indeed, which could induce a fx-eeman voluntarily to renounce
his liberty, and to give up himself as a slave to the disposal of another. The number
of slaves in every nation of Europe was immense. The greater part of the inferior
class of people in France were reduced to this state at the commencement of the third
race of Idngs. L'Esprit des Loix, liv. xxx. c. 11. The same was the case in Eng-
land. Brady, Pref. to Gen. Hist. — Many curious facts, with respect to the ancient state
of villains or slaves in England, are published in Observations on the Statutes, chiefly
the more ancient, 3rd edit. pp. 269, &c.

(10), page 9. — Innumerable proofs of this might be produced. Many charters,
granted by persons of the highest rank, are preserved, from which it appears that they
could not subscribe their name. It was usual for persons who could not write, to make
the sign of the cross in confirmation of a charter. Several of these remain, where kings
and persons of great eminence affix signum crucis manu propria pro ignoratione literarum,
Du Cange, voc. Crux^ vol. iii. p. 1191. From this is derived the phrase of signing instead
of subscribing a paper. In the ninth century, Herbaud, Comes Palatii, though supreme
judge of the empire by virtue of his office, could not subscribe his name. Nouveau
Traite de Diplomatique par deux B^nedictins, 4to. tom. ii. p. 422. As late as the four-
teenth century, Du Guesclin, constable of France, the greatest man in the state, and one
rf the greatest men of his age, could neither read nor write. St. Palaye, Memoires sur
I'ancienne Chevalerie, tit. ii. p. 82. Nor was this ignorance confined to laymen ; the
greater part of the clergy was not many degrees superior to theni in science. Many
dignified ecclesiastics could not subscribe the canons of those councils in which they sat
as members. Nouv. Traite de Diplom. tom. ii. p. 424. One of the questions appointed
by the canons to be put to persons who were candidates for orders was this: — " Whether
they could read the gospels and epistles, and explain the sense of them, at least lite-
rally?" Regino Prumiensis, ap. Bruck. Hist. Philos. v. iii. p. 631. Alfred the Great
"omplained, that from the Humber to the Thames there was not a priest who under-

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 601

stood the liturgy in bis mother-tongue, or who could translate the easiest piece of Latin,
and that from the Thames to the sea, the ecclesiastics were still more ignorant. Asserus
de Rebus Gestis Alfredi, ap. Camdeui Anglica, &c. p. 25. The ignorance of the clergy
is quiiintly described by an author of the dark ages: " Potius dediti gulas quam glossae;
potius colligunt libras quamlegunt libros; libentius intuentur Martham quam ^larcum;
malunt Icgere in Salmone quam in Solomone." Alanus de Art. Predicat. ap. Lebeuf,
Dissert, torn. ii. p. 21. To the obvious causes of such universal ignorance, arising from
the state of government and manners, from the seventh to the eleventh century,
we may add the scarcity of books during that period, and the difficulty of rendering
them more common. The Romans wrote their books either on parchment or on paper
made of the Egyptian papyrus. The latter, being the cheapest, was of course the moat
commonly used. But after the Saracens conquered Egypt in the seventh century, the
communication between that country and the people settled in Italy, or in other parts of
Europe, was almost entirely broken off, and the papyrus was no longer in use among
them. They were obliged, on that account, to write all their books upon parchment,
and as the price of that was high, books became extremely rare, and of great value.
We may judge of the scarcity of the materials for writing them from one circumstance.
There still remain several manuscripts of the eighth, ninth, and following centuries,
written on parchment, from which some former writing had been erased, in order to
substitute a new composition in its place. In this manner it is probable that several
works of the ancients perished. A book of Livj or of Tacitus might be erased, to make
room for the legendary tale of a saint, or the superstitious prayers of a missal. Murat.
Antiq. Ital. vol. iii. p. 833. P. de Montfaucon affirms, that the greater part of the manu-
scripts on parchment which he has seen, those of an ancient date excepted, are written
on parchment from which some former treatise had been erased. Me'm. de I'Acad. des
Inscript. torn. ix. p. 325. As the want of materials for writing is one reason why so
many of the works of the ancients have perished, it accounts likewise for the small
number of manuscripts of any kind previous to the eleventh century, when they began
to multiply, from a cause which shall be mentioned. Hist. Littdr. de France, tom. vi.
p. 6. Many circumstances prove the scarcity of books during these ages. Private per-
sons seldom possessed any books whatever. p]ven monasteries of considerable note had
only one missal. Murat. Antiq. vol. ix. p. 789. Lupus, abbot of Ferri^res, in a letter
to the pope, a.d. 855, beseeches him to lend him a copy of Cicero de Oratore and Quin-
tilian's Institutions ; "for," says he, "although we have parts of those books, there is
no complete copy of them in all France." Murat. Ant. v. iii. p. 835. The price of books
became so high, that persons of a moderate fortune could not afiPord to purchase them.
The countess of Anjou paid for a copy of the Homilies of Haimon, bishop of Halberstadt,
two hundred sheep, five quarters of wheat, and the same quantity of rye and millet.
Histoire Littdraire de France, par des Religieux B^nddictins, tom. vii. p. 3. Even so
late as the year 1471, when Louis XI. borrowed the works of Rasis, the Arabian phy-
sician, from the faculty of medicine in Paris, he not only deposited in pledge a con-
siderable quantity of plate, but was obliged to procure a nobleman to join with him as
surety in a deed, binding himself, under a great forfeiture, to restore it. Gabr. Naud^,
Addit. h. I'Histoire de Louys XI. par Comines, edit, de Fresnoy, tom. iv. p. 281. Many
curious circumst-ances, with respect to the extravagant price of books in the middle ages,
are collected by that industrious compiler, to whom I refer such of my readers as deem
this small branch of literary history an object of curiosity. When any person made a
present of a book to a church or monastery, in which were the only libraries during
several ages, it was deemed a donative of such value, that he oflfered it on the altar pro
remedio animcB sucb, in order to obtain the forgiveness of his sins . Murat vol. iii. p. 836.
Hist. Litter de France, tom. vi. p. 6. !Nouv. Trait, de Diplomat, par deux Benedictins,
4to. tom. i. p. 481. In the eleventh century, the art of making paper, in the manner
now become universal, was invented ; by means of that, not only the number of manu-
scripts increased, but the study of the sciences was wonderfully facilitated. Murat. ib.
p. 871. The invention of the art of making paper, and the invention of the art of print-
ing, are two considerable events in literary history. It is remarkable that the former
preceded the first dawning of letters and improvement in knowledge towards the close
of the eleventh century; the latter ushered in the light which spre^ over Europe at the
era of the Reformation.

602 PEOOPS AND ILLiJSTEATIONS.

(11), page 9. — All the religious maxims and practices of the dark ages are a proof
of this. I shall produce one remarkable testimony in confirmation of it, from an author
canonized by the church of Rome, St. Eloy, or Egidius, bishop of Noyon, in the seventh
century. " He is a good Christian who comes frequently to church ; who presents the
oblation which is oflFered to God upon the altar; who doth not taste of the fruits of his
own industry until he has consecrated a part of them to God ; who, when the holy fes-
tivals approach, lives chastely even with his own wife during several days, that with
a safe conscience he may draw near the altar of God; and who, in the last place, can re-
peat the Creed and the Lord's Prayer. Redeem then your souls from destruction, while
you have the means in your power: offer presents and tythes to churchmen; come more
frequently to church ; humbly implore the patronage of the saints ; for, if you observe
these things, you may come with security in the day of retribution to the tribunal of the
eternal Judge, and say, ' Give to us, 0 Lord, for we have given unto thee.' " Dacherii
Spicilegium Vet. Script, vol. ii. p. 94. The learned and judicious translator of Dr. Mos-
heim's Ecclesiastical History, to one of whose additional notes I am indebted for my
knowledge of this passage, subjoins a very proper reflection : " We see here a large and
ample description of a good Christian, in which there is not the least mention of the love
of God, resignation to his will, obedience to his laws, or of justice, benevolence, and
charity towards men." Mosh. Eccles. Hist. vol. i. p. 324.

(12), page 9. — That infallibility in all its determinations, to which the church of
Rome pretends, has been attended with one unhappy consequence. As it is impossible to
relinquish any opinion, or to alter any practice which has been estabhshed by authority
that cannot err, all its institutions and ceremonies must be immutable and everlasting,
and the church must continue to observe, in enhghtened times, those rites which were
introduced during the ages of darkness and credulity. What delighted and edified the
latter, must disgust and shock the former. Many of the rites observed in the Romish
church appear manifestly to have been introduced by a superstition of the lowest and most
illiberal species. Many of them were borrowed, with little variation, from the religious
ceremonies established among the ancient heathens. Some were so ridiculous, that if
every age did not furnish instances of the fascinating influence of superstition, as well as
of the whimsical forms which it assumes, it must appear incredible that they should have
been ever received or tolerated. In several churches of France, they celebrated a festival
in commemoration of the Virgin Mary's flight into Egypt. It was called the feast of the
Ass. A young girl, richly dressed, with a child in her arms, was set upon an ass superbly
caparisoned. The ass was led to the altar in solemn procession. High mass was said
v/ith great pomp. The ass was taught to kneel at proper places ; a hymn no less childish
than impious was sung in his praise; and, when the ceremony was ended, the priest, in-
stead of the usual words with which he dismissed the people, brayed three times like an
ass ; and the people, instead of the usual response, " We bless the Lord," brayed three
times in the same manner. Du Cange, voc. Festum, vol. iii. p. 424. This ridiculous
ceremony was not like the festival of fools, and some other pageants of those ages, a mere
farcical entertainment exhibited in a church, and mingled, as was then the custom, with
an imitation of some religious rites ; it was an act of devotion, performed by the minis-
ers of religion, and by the authority of the church. However, as this practice did not
prevail universally in the catholic church, its absurdity contributed at last to abolish it.

(13), page 11. — As there is no event in the history of mankind more singular than
that of the' crusades, every circumstance that tends to explain or to give any rational ac-
count of this extraordinary frenzy of the human mind is interesting. I have asserted in
the text, that the minds of men were prepared gradually for the amazing effort which
they made in consequence of the exhortations of Peter the Hermit, by several occurrences
previous to his time. A more particular detail of this curious and obscure part of history
may, perhaps, appear to some of my readers to be of importance. That the end of the
world was expected about the close of the tenth, and beginning of the eleventh century,
and that this occasioned a general alarm, is evident from the authors to whom I have
referred in the text. This belief was so universal and so strong, that it mingled itself
with civil transactions. Many charters, in the latter part of the tenth century ,_ begin in
this manner: " Appropinquante mundi termino," &c. As the end of the world is now at
hand, and by various calamities and judgments the signs of its approach are now mani-

PEOOrS AKD ILLUSTKATIONS. ^^

fn.f -HUt- de I ancued. par D. D. de Vic. et Vaisette, torn. ii. Preuves, pp. 86, 89, 90, 1 17,
158 &c One eSf his opinion was, tliat a great number of pilgrims resorted to Jeru-
ae'in wi?hare 1^^^^^ or to wait the coming ot;^the Lord; J^^S; f^l^;

marouil^s bishops, and even a great number of women, besides persons of an mfenor
3 Xked XhoIv Land.^ Ghiber. Rodulph. Hist, apud Bouquet, Recue.l, torn
" pp S 52. Another historian mentions a vast cavalcade of pilgnms who accompamed
Uie^f^ur t .^f Angouleme to Jerusalem in the year 1026. Chrome. Ademan ,bid. p 62
Uwn "heir return, these pilgrims filled Europe with lamentable accounts of the sta eof
C& ans in the Holy Landf Willerra. Tyr. Hist. ap. Gest. Dei per t ranc. vol. ii. p.
fiqr Sert Abbat Hist. ibid. vol. i. p. 476. Besides this, it was usual for many of the
ChrlJan fnLbiUn^^^ of Je usalem, as well as of other cities in the East, to travel as
SSntsthrS Europe; and, by describing the wretched condition ot the professors

ritv from their yoke. Gerberti Epistolje, ap. Bouquet, Recueil, torn. x. p. 42b. in con-
'cfuSr of thifspirited call, som^ subjects' of the.republic f f -J^^/^jf fjj ^^
invaded the ten-itories of the Mahometans m Syria. Murat. Script. Rer. Italic, vol m
^ 400 The alarm was taken in the East, and an opmion prevailed A.d. 1010, that ali
LTr;es of cSendom were to unite, in order to drive the Mahometans out of Pales me.
Chron Ademari aTBouq tom. x. p. 152. It is evident from all these particulars,
tiiat ?he ideTwhfch led the crusaders to undertake their wild enterprise did not arise,
Sl^g to the description of many authors, from a sudden freak ^^ ^-ntic enth^^^^^^^^
but were gradually formed; so that the universal concourse to the standard ot the cross,
when erected by Urban II., will appear less surprising. . ^ ;„ the.

If the varioS circumstances which I have enumerated in this note, as well as m the
histo^ arJsufficieTto account for the ardour with which such vast numbers engaged m
such a dangerous undertaking, the extensive privileges and immunities granted to the
Ssons w^^^^^^^^^ to account for the l^"? ^«^tinuance ot thi^^^^^^^^

m Euro-oe. 1 They were exempted from prosecutions on account of debt, during tbe
Leoft^eirbdng e^ngaged in this holy service, Du Gauge, vocCn^c^ PmnW"^
Tii.mT-2. Tiy were exempted from paying interest for the -oney-hidi they
had bomwed, in order to fit them for this sacred warfare Ibid^S. The^ were ex-
emnted either entirely, or at least during a certain time, from the payment of taxes. Ibid.
O^Jomiances delS de France, tom. i^ p. 33.-4 They might alienate their lands with-
out th^ consent of the superior lord of whom they held. Ibid.-o. Their persons and

l^^hey Sed a pknSy remission of all their sins, and the gates of heaven were set
Ln t:Vet wTthouVrequling any other proof of their F-tence b^t t^^^^^^^^
ttis expedition; and thus, by grati ymg their f^J^^^^e passion tiieove of ^^a^^^
secured to themselves immunities which were not "^"^"7 .^^ta^ned but b> Pay>"<. |jjg
sums of money, or by undergoing Pa^nful penances. Guibert Abbas p. 480 NV^h^^^
we behold the civil and ecclesiastical powers vying with each other audstrainm^
Lention, in order to devise expedients for encouraging and adding st ength to the
TiIrTt of superstition, can we be Surprised that it should. become so gen^^^^^^ tor nder
it infamous, and a mark of cowardice, to dechne engaging in the holj war ? JVillemi.
Tvriensis an Bonears. vol. ii. p. 641. The histories of the crusades, written by modern
lutTors who are fpt to substitute the ideas and maxims of their own age m the place
^f E wMch influ'enced the persons whose actions tl-X attempt to rela^conv^^^^^^
imnerfect notion of the spirit at that time predominant in Europe. Ihe original ms-
Sns. who were animate^d themselves with the same passions -^'^^ P^^^^^^^f^^^^^^^
temporkries, exhibit to us a more striking picture of the times and manners .vhich they

604 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

describe. The enthusiastic rapture with which they account for the effects of the pope's
discourse in the council of Clermont; the exultation with which they mention the num-
bers who devoted themselves to this holy warfare ; the confidence with which they ex-
press their reliance on the divine protection ; the ecstacy of joy with which they describe
their taking possession of the holy city, will enable us to conceive, in some degree, the
extravagance of that zeal which agitated the minds of men with such violence, and will
suggest as many singular reflections to a philosopher, as any occurrence in the history of
mankind. It is unnecessary to select the particular passages in the several historians,
which confirm this observation. But, lest those authors may be suspected of adorning
their narrative with any exaggerated description, I shall appeal to one of the leaders who
conducted the enterprise. There is extant a letter from Stephen, the earl of Chartres and
Blois, to Adela his wife, in which he gives her an account of the progress of the crusa-
ders. He describes the crusaders as the chosen army of Christ, as the servants and sol-
diers of God, as men who marched under the immediate protection of the Almighty,
being conducted by his hand to victory and conquest. He speaks of the Turks as accursed,
sacrilegious, and devoted by Heaven to destruction ; and when he mentions the soldiers in
the Christian army, who had died, or were killed, he is confident that their souls were
admitted directly into the joys of Paradise. Dacherii Spicilegium, vol. iv. p. 257.

The expense of conducting numerous bodies of men from Europe to Asia must have
been excessive, and the difficulty of raising the necessary sums must have been propor-
tionally great, during ages when the public revenues in every nation of Europe were ex-
tremely small. Some account is preserved of the expedients employed by Humbert II.,
dauphm of Vienne, in order to levy the money requisite towards equipping him for the
crusade, a.d. 1346. These I shall mention, as they tend to show the considerable influ-
ence which the crusades had, both on the state of property and of civil government.
1. He exposed to sale part of his domains; and as the price was destined for such a
sacred service, he obtained the consent of the French king, of whom these lands were
held, ratifying the alienation. Hist, de Dauphin^, torn, i, pp. 332, 335. — 2. He issued
a proclamation, in which he promised to grant new privileges to the nobles, as well as new
immunities to the cities and towns in his territories, in consideration of certain sums
which they were instantly to pay on that account. Ibid. torn. ii. p. 512. Many of the
charters of community, which I shall mention in another note, were obtained in this man-
ner.— 3. He exacted a contribution towards defraying the charges of the expedition from
all his subjects, whether ecclesiastics or laymen, who did not accompany him in per-
son to the East. Ibid. tom. i. p. 335, — 4. He appropriated a considerable part of his
usual revenues for the support of the troops to be employed in this service. Ibid. tom. ii. p.
518. — 5. He exacted considerable sums, not only of the Jews settled in his dominions, but
also of the Lombards and other bankers who had fixed their residence there. Ibid. tom.
i. p. 338, tom. ii. p. 528. Notwithstanding the variety of these resources, the dauphin
was involved in such expense by this expedition, that, on his return, he was obliged
to make new demands on his subjects, and to pillage the Jews by fresh exactions. Ibid,
tom. i. pp. 344, 347. When the count de Foix engaged in the first crusade, he raised the
money necessary for defraying the expenses of that expedition by alienating part of his
territories. Hist, de Langued. par D. D. de Vict, et Vaisette, tom. ii. p. 287. In like
manner Baldwin, count of Hainault, mortgaged or sold a considerable porton of his do-
minions to the bishop of Liege, a.d. 1096. Du Mont, Corps Diplomatique, tom. i. p.
59. At a later period, Baldwin, count of Namur, sold part of his estate to a monas-
tery, when he uitended to assume the cross, a.d. 1239. Mirasi Oper. i. p. 313.

(14), page 13. — The usual method of forming an opinion concerning the comparative
state of manners in two different nations, is by attending to the facts which historians
relate concerning each of them. Various passages might be selected from the Byzan-
tine historians, describing the splendour and magnificence of the Greek empire. P. de
Montfaucon has produced from the writings of St. Chrysostom a very full account of the
elegance and luxury of the Greeks in his age. That father, in his sermons, enters into
such minute details concerning the manners and customs of his contemporaries, as appear
strange in discourses from the pulpit. P. de Montfaucon has collected these descriptions,
and ranged them under different heads. The court of the more early Greek emperors
seems to have resembled those of eastern monarchs, both in magnificence and in
corruption of manners. The emperors in the eleventh century; though inferior in power

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 605

did not yield to them in ostentation and splendour. Meraoires de I'Acad. des Inscript.
torn. XX. p. 197. — But we may decide concerning the comparative state of manners in
tlie eastern empire, and among tlie nations in tlie west of Europe, by another method,
■which, if not more certain, is at least more striking. As Constantinople was the place of
remit- zvous for all the armies of the crusaders, this brought together the people of the
East and West as to one great interview. There are eictant several contemporary au-
thors, both among the Greeks and Latins, who were witnesses of this singular congress
of people, formerly strangers, in a great measure, to each other. They describe, with
simplicity and candour, the impression which that new spectacle made upon their own
minds. This may be considered as the most lively and just picture of the real character
and manners of each people. When the Greeks speak of the Franks, they describe them
as barbarians, fierce, iUiterate, impetuous, and savage. They assume a tone of superiority,
as a more polished people, acquamted with the arts both of government and of elegance,
of which the other was ignorant. It is thus Anna Comnena describes the manners of the
liJitins. Alexias, pp. 224, 231, 237, ap. Byz. Script, vol. ix. She always views them
with contempt as a rude people, the very mention of whose names was sufficient to con-
taminate the beauty and elegance of history, p. 229. Nicetas Choniatas inveighs against
them with still more violence, and gives an account of their ferocity and devastations,
in terms not unlike those wliich preceding historians had employed in describing the in-
cursions of the Goths and Vandals. Nicet. Chon. ap. Byz. Script, vol. iii. pp. 302, &c.
But, on the other hand, the Latin historians were struck with astonishment at the mag-
nificence, wealth, and elegance which they discovered in the eastern empire. " 0 what
a vast city is Constantinople (exclaims Fulcherius Carnotensis, when he first beheld it),
and how beautiful ! How many monasteries are there in it, and how many palaces built
with wonderful art! How many manufactures are there in the city amazing to behold!
It would be astonishing to relate how it abounds with all good things, with gold, silver,
and stuff's of various kind ; for every hour ships arrive in its port laden with all things
necessary for the use of man." Fulcher. ap. Bongars. vol. i. p. 386. Willermus, arch-
bishop of Tyre, the most intelligent historian of the crusades, seems to be fond, on
every occasion, of describing the elegance and splendour of the court of Constantinople,
and adds, that what he and his countrymen observed there exceeded any idea which
they could have formed of it, " nostrarum enim rerum modum et dignitatem excedunt."
Willerm. Tyr. ap. Bong. vol. ii. pp. 657, 664. Benjamin the Jew, of Tudela in Navarre,
who began his travels a.d. 1173, appears to have been equally astonished at the magni-
ficence of that city, and gives a description of its splendour, in terms of high admiration.
Benj. Tudel. ap. Les Voyages faits dans les 12*, 13"^, &c. Si^cles, par Bergeron, pp. 10,
&c. Guntherus, a French monk, who wrote a history of the conquest of Constantinople
by the crusaders, in the thirteenth century, speaks of the magnificence of that city in
the same tone of admiration: " Structuram autem aedificiorum in corpore civitatis, in
ecclesiis videlicet, et turribus, et in domibus magnatorum, vix uUus vel describere potest,
vel credere describenti, nisi qui ea oculata fide cognov€rit." Hist. Constantinop. ap.
Canisii Lectiones Antiquas, fol. Antw. 1725, vol. iv. p. 14. Geoflfrey de Villehardouin, a
nobleman of high rank, and accustomed to all the magnificence then known in the West,
describes, in similar terms, the astonishment and admiration of such of his fellow-
soldiers as beheld Constantinople for the first time : " They could not have believed, "
says he, " that there was a city so beautiful and so rich in the whole world. When
they viewed its high walls, its lofty towers, its rich palaces, its superb churches, all
appeared so great, that they could have formed no conception of this sovereign city, un-
less they had seen it with their own eyes." Histoire de la Conquete de Constant, p. 49.
From these undisguised representations of their own feelings, it is evident that to the
Greeks the crusaders appeared to be a race of rude, unpolished barbarians ; whereas the
latter, how much soever they might contemn the unwarlike character of the former,
could not help regarding them as far superior to themselves in elegance and arts. — That
the state of government and manners was much more improved in Italy than in the other
countries of Europe, is evident not only from the facts recorded in history, but it appears
that the more intelligent leaders of the crusaders were struck with the difference.
Jac-obus de Vitriaco, a French historian of the holy war, makes an elaborate panegyric
on the character and manners of the Italians. He views them as a more polished people,
and particularly celebrates them for their love of liberty, and civil wisdom : " In con-
siliis circumspecti, in re su& publica procuranda dilii^entes et studiosi ; sibi in posterum

QQ6 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

providentes ; aliis subjici renuentes ; ante omnia libertatem sibi defendentee ; sub uno
quern eligunt capitaneo, communitati suae jura et instituta dictantes et similiter obser-
vantes." Histor. Hierosol. ap. Gesta Dei per Francos, vol. ii. p. 1085.

(15), page 15. — The different steps taken by the cities of Italy, in order to extend
their power and dominions, are remarkable. As soon as their liberties were established,
and they began to feel their own importance, they endeavoured to render themselves
masters of the territory round their walls. Under the Komans, when cities enjoyed mu-
nicipal privileges and jurisdiction, the circumjacent lands belonged to each town, and
were the property of the community. But as it was not the genius of the feudal policy
to encourage cities, or to show any regard for their possessions and immunities, these lands
had been seized, and shared among the conquerors. The barons to whom they were
gi-anted, erected their castles almost at the gates of the city, and exercised their juris-
diction there. Under pretence of recovering their ancient property, many of the cities in
Italy attacked these troublesome neighbours, and, dispossessing them, annexed their
territories to the communities, and made thereby a considerable addition to their power.
Several instances of this occur in the eleventh, and beginning of the twelfth centuries.
Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. iv. p. 159, &c. Their ambition increasing together with their
power, the cities afterwards attacked several barons situated at a greater distance
from theif walls, and obliged them to engage that they would become members of their
community ; that they would take the oath of fidelity to their magistrates ; that they
would subject their lands to all burdens and taxes imposed by common consent ; that
they would defend the community against all its enemies ; and that they would reside
within the city during a certain specified time in each year. Murat. ibid. p. 163. This
subjection of the nobility to the municipal government established in cities became almost
universal, and was often extremely grievous to pei-sons accustomed to consider them-
selves as independent. Otto Frisingensis thus describes the state of Italy under Fre-
derick I. : " The cities so much affect liberty, and are so solicitous to avoid the insolence
of power, that almost all of them have thrown off' every other authority, and are governed
by their own magistrates. Insomuch that all that country is now tilled with free cities,
most of which have compelled their bishops to reside within their walls, and there is
scarcely any nobleman, how great soever his power may be, who is not subject to the
laws and government of some city." De Gestis Frider. I. Imp. lib. ii. c. 13, p. 453. In
another place he observes of the marquis of Montferrat, that he was almost the only
Italian baron who had preserved his independence, and had not become subject to the
laws of any city. See also Muratori, Antichitb, Estensi, vol. i. pp. 411, 412. That state,
into which some of the nobles were compelled to enter, others embraced from choice. They
observed the high degree of security, as well as of credit and estimation, which the grow-
ing wealth and dominion of the great communities procured to all the members of them.
They were desirous to partake of these, and to put themselves under such powerful pro-
tection. With this view they voluntarily became citizens of the towns to which tneir
lands were most contiguous ; and, abandoning their ancient castles, took up their resi-
dence in the cities, at least during part of the year. Several deeds are still extant, by
which some of the most illustrious families in Italy are associated as citizens of different
cities. Murat. ibid. p. 165, &c. A charter, by which Atto de Macerata is admitted as
a citizen of Osima, a.d. 1198, in the Marcha di Ancona, is still extant. In this he sti-
pulates, that he will acknowledge himself to be a burgess of that community; that he
will to the utmost of his power promote its honour and welfare ; that he will obey its
magistrates, that he will enter into no league with its enemies; that he will reside in the
town during two months in every year, or for a longer time, if required by the magis-
trates. The community, on the other hand, take him, his family, and friends, under their
protection, and engage to defend him against every enemy. Fr. Ant. Zacharias, Anec-
dota Medii ^vi, Aug. Taur. 1755, fol. p. 66. This privilege was deemed so important,
that not only laymen, but ecclesiastics of the highest rank, condescended to be adopted
as members of the great communities, in hopes of enjoying the safety and dignity which
that condition conferred. Murat. ibid. 179. Before the institution of communities, per-
sons of noble birth had no other residence but their castles. They kept their petty
courts there; and the cities were deserted, having hardly any inhabitants but slaves or
persons of low condition. But in consequence of the practice which I have mentioned,
cities not only became moi-e populous, but were filled with inliabitants of better rank, and

PEOOFS AND ILLUSTEATIOKS. ^^'

a custom which still subsists in Italy was then introduced., that all famihes ^f d^stmction
reside more constantly in the great towns, than is usual m other Pf ^s ot Lurope. AS
cities acquired new consideration and dignity by the accession of such citizens they
became more solicitous to preserv-e their liberty and independence Thejmpe':o^^^^^^
Rovereiens had anciently a palace in almost every great city of Italy . when tney vibuea
J^tSrv they were accustomed to reside in these palaces, and the troops which ac-
XS t'hem w'ere quartered in the houses of the f'-ns This the c,^^^^^^^^^^
both ignominious and dangerous. They could not help J?"^5^"°S;t ^s ^^^^^^^^^^^^
master and an enemy within their walls. They laboured, therefore, to get tree oi ims
Tubjecti n lome'citiL prevailed on the emperok to engage that they would never^enter

Sgagid in this^nterprise with great ardour. The free cities of Italy J^^^^^^ t«f^^^^^^
a leneral league, and stood on their defence; and after a long contest carried on with
alternate success a solemn treaty of peace was concluded at Constance, A.p. }^^\?l
wS 111 he privileges and immunities granted by fonner emperors to the principal cities
Tn aly were cTnfiSed and ratified. M^urat. Dissert.. XLVIII. This treaty of Constance
was considered as such an important article in the jurisprudence ^^f « ^^^^'^/f ^'Sf''/^^^^^
it is usually pubhshed together with the Libri Feudorum at the end of the Corpus Juris
Ss The^reaty secu'^ed privileges of great importance to the confetote cities and
thoueh it reserved a considerable degree of authority and junsdict on to the empire yet
the dies perserered with such vigour in their efibrts in order to extend their immunities,
InrthT^o'n uncTures in which thfy made them were so favourabe that be^^^^^^
elusion of the thirteenth century, most of the great cities ^^ 1*^]^ ^J^^Jf^^^^^^^^
marks of subjection to the empire, and were become independent sovereign repubhcs^
It is not requisite that I should trace the various steps by which they advanced to this
ilh degreHf power so fatal to the empire, and so beneficial to the cause of liber^ in
I aly. Muratori, with his usual industi^, has collected many onf.'"'^ Pf P^^J^Z?^
illustrate this curious and little known part of history. Mura . Antiq. Ital. Dissert. L.
See also Jo. Bapt. Villanovse Hist. Laudis Pompeii sive Lodi, m Grsev. Thes. Antiquit.
Ital. vol. iii. p. 888.

ns^ vaae 15. — Long before the institution of communities in France, charters of
immunity or franchise were granted to some towns and villages by the 1?-^^^ on whom
they depended. But these are very different from such as became common m the twelfth
and thirteenth centuries. They did not erect these towns into corporations : they did
not establish a municipal government; they did not grant them the P"^;l«f. °f ^^^"^
arms. They contained nothing more than a manumission of the inhabitants from the
roke of servitude; an exemption from certain services which were oppressive and igno-
minious; and the establishment of a fixed tax or rent which the citizens were to pay to
[heir lord in place of impositions which he could formerly lay upon them at pleasi^e.
■Two charters of this kind to two villages in the county of Rousillon, one m a.d. J74 the
other in a.d. 1025, are still extant. Petr. de Marca, 3f area, sive Limes Hispamcus,
App pp. 909, 1038. Such concessions, it is probable, were not unknown in other parts
of Europe, and may be considered as a step towards the more extensive privileges con-
ferred bf Louis le Gros on the towns within his domains. The communities m Fraiice
.never aspired to the same independence with those in Italy. They acquired new privi-
leges and immunities, but the right of sovereignty remained entire to the king or baron
"Within whose territories the respective cities were situated, and from whom they received
the charter of their freedom. A great number of these charters granted both by the
kings of France and by their great vassals, are published by M. d Achery m his Spicile-
cium, and many are found in the collection of the Ordonnances des Rois de France.
These convey a very striking representation of the wretched condition of cities previous
to the institution ot communities, when they were subject to the judges appointed by
the superior lords of whom they held, and who had scarcely any othei^ law but their
wiU Each concession in these charters must be considered as a gnmt of some new

an

m

608 PROOFS AKD ILLUSTRATIONS.

privileges which the people did not formerly enjoy, and each regulation as a method
of redressing some grievance under which the inhabitants of cities formerly laboured.
The charters of communities contain likewise the first expedients employed for the intro-
duction of equal laws and regular government. On both these accounts they merit par-
ticular attention, and therefore, instead of referring my readers to the many bulky
volumes in which they are scattered, I sliall give thera a view of some of tlie most im-
portant articles in these charters, ranged under two general heads. I. Such as respect
personal safety. II. Such as respect the security of property.

I. During that state of turbulence and disorder which the corruption of the feudal
government introduced in Europe, personal safety was the first and great object of every
individual ; and as the great military barons alone were able to give sufficient protection
to their vassals, this was one great source of their power and authority. But, by the in-
stitution of communities, effectual provision was made for the safety of individuals, in-
dependent of the nobles. For, 1. The fundam.ental article in every charter was, that
all the members of the community bound themselves by oath to assist, defend, and stand
by each other against all aggressors, and that they should not suffer any person to injure,
distress, or molest any of their fellow-citizens. D'Acher. Spicil. x. 642 ; xi. 341, &c. —
2. Whoever resided in any town which was made free, was obliged, under a severe penalty,
to accede to the community, and to take part in the mutual defence of its members.
D'Acher. Spic. xi. 344. — 3. The communities had the privilege of carrying arms; of
making war on their private enemies ; and of executing by military force any sentence
which their magistrates pronounced. D'Acher. Spicil. x. 643, 644 ; xi. 343. — 4. The
practice of making satisfaction by a pecuniary compensation for murder, assault, or
other acts of violence, most inconsistent with the order of society, and the safety of indi-
viduals, was abolished ; and such as committed these crimes were punished capitally,
or with rigour adequate to their guilt. D'Acher. xi. 362. Miraei Opera Diplomatica,
i. 292. — 5. No member of a community was bound trO justify or defend himself by battle
or combat ; but, if he was charged with any crime, he could be convicted only by the evi-
dence of witnesses, and the regular course of legal proceedings. Mir^us, ibid. D'Acher.
xi. 375, 349. Ordon. torn. iii. 265. — 6. If any man suspected himself to be in danger
from the malice or enmity of another, upon his making oath to that effect before a ma-
gistrate, the person suspected was bound under a severe penalty to give security for his
peaceable behaviour. D'Acher. xi. 346. This is the same species of security which is
still known in Scotland under the name of law burrows. In France it was first in-
troduced among the inhabitants of communities, and having been found to contribute
considerably towards personal safety, it was extended to all tlie other members of the
society. Etablissemens de St. Louis, liv. i. cap. 28, ap. Du Cange, Vie de St. Louis,
p. 15.

II. The provisions in the charters of communities concerning the security of property,
are not less considerable than those respecting personal safety. By the ancient law of
France, no person could be arrested or confined in prison on account of any private debt.
Ordon. des Rois de France, torn. i. p. 72, 80. If any person was arrested upon any pre-
text but his having been guilty of a capital crime, it was lawful to rescue him out of
the hands of the officers who had seized him. Ordon. iii. p. 17. Freedom from arrest,
on account of debt, seems likewise to have been enjoyed in other countries. Gudenus,
Sylloge Diplom. 473. In society, while it remained in its rudest and most simple form,
debt seems to have been considered as an obligation merely personal. Men had made
Bome progress towards refinement, before creditors acquired a right of seizing the property
of their debtors, in oi*der to recover payment. The expedients for this purpose were all
introduced originally in communities, and we can trace the gradual progress of them.
1. The simplest and most obvious species of security was, that the person who sold any
commodity should receive a pledge from him who bought it, which he restored upon re-
ceiving payment. Of this custom there are vestiges in several charters of community.
D'Acher. ix. 185; xi. 377.-2. When no pledge was given, and the debtor became re-
fractory or insolvent, the creditor was allowed to seize his effects with a strong hand, and
by his private authority ; the citizens of Paris are warranted by the royal mandate, " ut
ubicumque, et quocumque modo poterunt, tantum capiant, unde pecuniam sibi debitam
integr^ et plenari^ habeant, et inde sibi invicem adjutores existant." Ordon. &c. tom. L
p. 6. This rude practice, suitable only to the violence of that which has been called
a state of nature, was tolerated looger than one can conceive to be possible in any

TROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 609

society where laws and order were at all known. The ordinance authorizing it was
issued A.D. 1131; and that which corrects the law, and prohibits creditors from seizing
the effects of their debtors, unless by a warrant from a magistrate, and under his inspec-
tion, was not published until the year 1351. Ordon. torn. ii. p. 438. It is probable,
however, that men were taught, by observing the disorders which the former mode of

Eroceeding occasioned, to correct it in practice long before a remedy was provided by a
iw to that effect. Every discerning reader will apply this observation to many other
customs and practices which I have mentioned. New customs are not always to be
ascribed to the laws which authorize them. Those statutes only give a legal sanction to
such things as the experience of mankind has previously found to be proper and bene-
ficial.— 3. As soon as the interposition of the magistrate became requisite, regular pro-
vision was made for attaching or distraining the moveable effects of a debtor; and if his
moveables were not sufficient to discharge the debt, his immoveable property, or estate in
land, was liable to the same distress, and was sold for the benefit of his creditor. D'Acher.
is. pp. 184, 185; xi. pp. 348, 380. As this regulation afforded the most complete
security to the creditor, it was considered as so severe, that humanity pointed out several
limitations in the execution of it. Creditors were prohibited from_ seizing the wearing
appjirel of their debtors, their beds, the door of their house, their instruments of hus-
bandry, &c. D'Acher, ix. p. 184; xi. p. 377. Upon the same principles, when the
power of distraining effects became more general, the horse and arms of a gentleman
could not be seized. D'Acher. ix. p. 185. As hunting was the favourite amusement of
martial nobles, the emperor Ludovicus Pius prohibited the seizing of a hawk on account
of any composition or debt. Capitul. lib. iv. § 21. But if the debtor had no other move-
ables, even these privileged articles might be seized. — 4. In order to render the security
of property complete within a communily, every person who was admitted a member of
it, was obliged to buy or build a house, or to purchase lands within its precincts, or at
least to bring into the town a considerable portion of his moveables, ^je?' ([uce jusiiciari
possit, si quid forte in eum querelce evenerit. D'Acher. xi. p. 326. Ordon. i. p. 367. Li-
oertates iS. Greorgii de Esperanchia, Hist, de Dauphiue, tom. i. p. 26. — 5. That security
might be as perfect as possible, in some towns the members of the community seem to
have been bound for eacn other. D'Acher. x. p^ 644. — 6. All questions with respect to
property were tried within the community, by magistrates and judges whom the citizens
elected or appointed. Their decisions were more equal and fixed than the sentences
which depended on the capricious and arbitrary will of a baron, who thought himself
superior to all laws. D'Acher. x. pp. 644, 646 ; xi. p. 344, et passim. Ordon. iii. p. 204.
— 7. No member of a community could be burdened by any arbitrary tax ; for the
superior lord, who granted the charter of community, accepted of a fixed census or
duty in lieu of all demands. Ordon. tom. iii. p. 204. Libertatis de Calma, Hist, de
Dauphin^, tom. i. p. 19. Libertates S. Georgii de Espernachia, ibid. p. 26. Nor
could the members of a community be distressed by an unequal imposition of the sum
to be levied on the community. Kegulations are inserted in the charters of some com-
munities, concerning the method of determining the quota of any tax to be levied on each
inhabitant. D'Ach. xi. pp. 350, 365. St. Louis published an ordinance concerning this
matter, which extended to all the communities. Ordon. tom. i. p. 186. These regulations
are extremely favourable to hberty, as they vest the power ot proportioning the taxes in
a certain number of citizens chosen out of each parish, who were bound, by solemn oath,
to decide according to justice. That the more perfect security of property was one great
object of those who instituted communities, we learn, not only from the nature of the
thing, but froni the express words of several charters, of which I shall only mention that
granted by Alienor, quoen of England and duchess of Guienne, to the community of
Poitiers, " ut sua propria melius defendere possint, et magis integre custodire." Du
Cange, voc. Commtinia, vol. ii. p. 863. — Such are some of the capital regulations estab-
lished in communities during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. These may be con-
sidered as the first expedients for the re-estabhshment of law and order, and contributed
greatly to introduce regular government among all the members of society. As soon as
communities were instituted, high sentiments of liberty began to manifest themselves.
When Humbert, lord of Beaujeu, upon granting a charter of community to the town of
Belleville, exacted of the inhabitants an oath of fidelity to himself and successors, they
-"-■^ulated, on their part that he should swear to maintain their franchises and hberties;
for their greater security, they obliged him to bring twenty gentlemen to take the

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610 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

Bame oath, and to be bound together with him. D'Ach. ix. p. 183. In the aame
manner, the lord of Moriens in Dnuphine produced a certain number of persons as his
sureties for the observation of the articles contained in the charter of community to that
town. These were bound to surrender themselves prisoners to the inhabitants of Moriens,
if their liege lord should violate any of their franchises, and they promised to remain ia
custody until he should grant the members of the community redress. Hist, de Dau-
pliind, torn. i. p. 17. If the mayor or chief magistrate of a town did any injury to a
citizen, he was obliged to give security for his appearance in judgment, in the same
manner as a private person ; and if cast, was .iable to the same penalty. D'Acher. ix.
p. 183. These are ideas of equality uncommon in the feudal times. Communities were
so favourable to freedom, tiiat they were distinguished by the name of libertates. Da
Cange, vol. ii. p. 863. They were at first extremely odious to the nobles, who foresaw
what a check they must prove to their power and domination. Guibert, abbot of Nogent,
calls them execrable inventions, by which, contrary to law and justice, slaves withdrew
themselves from that obedience which they owed to their masters. Du Cange, ibid. p.
862. Tlie zeal with which some of the nobles and powerful ecclesiastics opposed tne
establishment of communities, and endeavoured to circumscribe their privileges, was ex-
traordinary. A striking instance of this occurs in the contests between the archbishop
.'Of Eheims and the inhabitants of that community. It was the chief business of every
archbishop, during a considerable time, to abridge the rights and jurisdiction of the com-
munity ; and the great object of the citizens, especially when the see was vacant, to main-
tain, to recover, and to extend their own jurisdiction. Histoire Civile et Politique de la
Ville de Reims, par M. Anquetil, tom i. p. 287, &c.

The observations which I have made concerning the low state of cities, and the condi-
tion of their inliabitants, are confirmed by innumerable passages in the historians and
laws of the middle ages. It is not improbable, however, that some cities of the first
order were in a better state, and enjoyed a superior degree of liberty. Under the Roman
government, the municipal government established in cities was extremely favourable
to liberty. The jurisdiction of the senate in each corporation, and the privileges o.
the citizens, were both extensive. There is reason to believe that some of tiie greater
cities, which escaped the destructive rage of the barbarous nations, still retained their
ancient form of government, at least in a great measure. They were governed by a
council of citizens, and by magistrates whom they themselves elected. Very strong pre-
sumptions in favour of this opinion are produced by M. I'Abb^ de Bos, Hist. Crit. de .a
Mon. Fran9. tom. i. p. 18, &c., tom. ii. p. 524, edit. 1742. It appears from some of the
charters of community to cities, granted in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, that
these only confirm the privileges possessed by the inhabitants previous to the establish-
ment of the community. D'Acher. Spicileg. vol. xi. p. 345. Other cities claimed their
privileges, as having possessed them without interruption from the times of the Romans.
Hist. Crit. de la Mon. Fran9. tom. ii. p. 333. But the number of cities which enjoyed
such immunities was so small, as hardly, in any degree, to diminish the force of my con-
clusions in the text.

(17), page 15. — Having given a full account of the establishment, as well as efiects of
communities in Italy and France, it will be necessary to inquire, with some attention, into
the progress of cities and of municipal government in Germany. The ancient Germans
had no cities. Even in their hamlets or villages, they did not build their houses con-
tiguous to each other. Tacit, de Mor. Germ. cap. 16. They considered it as a bad^e
of servitude, to be obliged to dwell in a city surrounded with walls. When one of their
tribes had shaken off the Roman yoke, their countrymen required of them, as an evi-
dence of their having recovered liberty, to demolish the walls of a town which the
Romans had built in their country. Even the fiercest animals, said they, lose their
spirit and courage when they are confined. Tacit. Histor. lib. iv. c. 64. The Romans built
several cities of note on the banks of the Rhine. But in all the vast countries from that
river to the coasts of the Baltic, there was hardly one city previous to the ninth century
of the Christian era. Conringius, Esercitatio de Urbibus Germaniae, Oper. vol. i. § § 25,
27 31 &c. Heineccius differs from Conringius with respect to this. But even after
allowing tohis arguments and authorities their utmost force, they prove only, that there
were a few places in those extensive regions on which some historians have bestowed the
name of towns. Elem. Jur. German, fib. i. § 102. Under Charlemagne, and the emperora

^

PBOOPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 611

. his family, as tlio political state of Germany began to improve, several cities were
.funded, and men became accustomed to associate and to live together in one place.
Charlemagne founded two archbishoprics and nine bishoprics in the most considerable
towns of Germany. Aub. Mirjei Opera Diplomatica, vol. i. p. 16. His successors increased
the number of these ; and as bishops fixed their residence in the chief town of their
diocese, and performed religious functions there, that induced many peeple to settle m
them. Conring. ibid. § 48. But Henry, surnamed the Fowler, who began his reign A.D.
920, must be considered as the great founder of cities in Germany. The empire was at
that time infested by the incursions of the Hungarians and other barbarous people. lu
order to oppose them, Henry encouraged his subjects to settle in cities, which he sur-
rounded with walls strengthened by towers. He enjoined or persuaded a certain pro-
portion of the nobility to fix their residence in the towns, and thus rendered the condition
of citizens more honourable than it had been formerly. Wittikindus, Annal. lib. i. ap.
Conring. § 82. From this period, the number of cities continued to increase, and they
became more populous and more wealthy. But cities in Germany were still destitute of
municipal liberty or jurisdiction. Such of them as were situaied in the imperial de-
mesnes, were subject to the emperors. Their comites, missi, and other judges, presided
in them, and dispensed justice. Towns situated on the estate of a baron were part of his
fief and he or his officers exercised a similar jurisdiction in them. Conring. ibid. § § 73,
74 Heincc Elem. Jur. Germ. lib. i. § 104. The Germans borrowed the institution of
communities from the Italians. Knipschildius, Tractatus Politico-Histor. Jurid. de Civi-
tatum Imperialium Juribus, vol. i. lib. i. cap. 5, No. 23. Frederick Barbarossa was the
first emperor who, from the same political consideration that influenced LomsleGros,
multiplied communities, in order to abridge the power of the nobles. Pfeffel, Abrege da
I'Histoire et du Droit Publique d'Allemagne, 4to. p. 297. From the reign of Henry the
Fowler, to the time when the German cities acquired full possession of their immunities,
various' circumstances contributed to their increase. The establishment of bishoprics
(already mentioned), and the building of cathedrals, naturally induced many people to
settle near the chief place of worship. It became the custom to hold councils and courts
of judicature of every kind, ecclesiastical as well as civil, in cities. In the eleventh cen-
tury, many slaves were enfranchised, the greater part of whom settled in cities. Several
mine's were discovered and wrought in different provinces, which drew together such a
concourse of people, as gave rise to several cities, and increased the number of inha-
bitants in others. Conring. § 105. The cities began, in the thirteenth century, to form
leagues for their mutual defence, and for repressing th« disorders occasioned by the
private wars among the barons, as well as by their exactions. This rendered the condition
of the inhabitants of cities more secure than that of any other order of men, and allui-ed
many to become members of their communities. Conring. § 94. , There were inhabitants
of three different ranks in the towns of Germany: the nobles, or familicB', the citizens, or
liben; and the artisans, who were slaves, or homines proprii ; Knipschild. lib. n. cap.
29 No. 13. Henry V., who began his reign a.d. 1106, enfranchised the slaves who were
artisans or' inhabitants in several towns, and gave them the rank of citizens or liberi.
Pfeffel p. 254. Knipsch. lib. ii. c. 29, Nos. 113, 119. Though the cities in Germany
did not acquire liberty so early as those in France, they extended their privileges much
farther. All the imperial and free cities, the number of which is considerable, acquired
the full right of being immediate ; by which term, in the German jurisprudence, we are
to understand, that they are subject to the empire alone, and possess within their own
precincts all the rights of complete and independent sovereignty. The various privileges
of the imperial cities, the great guardians of the Germanic liberties, are enumerated by
Knipschild. lib. ii. The most important articles are generally known, and it would be
improper to enter into any disquisition concerning minute particulars.

(18), page 15.— The Spanish historians are almost entirely silent concerning the origin
and progress of communities in that kingdom ; so that I cannot fix, with any degree of
certainty, the time and manner of their first introduction there. It appears, however,
from Mariana, vol. ii. p. 221, fol. Hagae, 1736, that in the year 1350, eighteen cities had
obtained a seat in the cortes of Castile. From the account which is given of their con-
stitution and pretensions, Sect. III. of this volume, it will appear that their privileges
and form of government were the same with those of the other feudal corporations ; and
this, as well as the c^erfect similarity of political institutions and transactions in all thf

2 K 2

612 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

feudal kingdoms, may lead ns to conclude, that communities were introduced tliere in the
same manner, and probably about the same time, as in the other nations of Europe. In
Aragon, as I shall have occasion to observe in a subsequent note, cities seem early to
have acquired extensive immunities, together with a share in the legislature. In the
year 1118, the citizens of Saragossa had not only attained political liberty, but they were
declared to be of equal rank with the nobles of the second class ; and many other immu-
nities, unknown to persons in their rank of life in other parts of Europe, were conferred
upon them. Zurita, Anales de Aragon, torn. i. p. 44. In England, the establishment of
communities or corporations was posterior to the conquest. The practice was borrowed
from France, and the privileges granted by the crown were perfectly similar to those
which I have enumerated. But as this part of history is well known to most of my
readers, I shall, without entering into any critical or minute discussion, refer them to
authors who have fully illustrated this interesting point in the English history. Brady's
Treatise of Boroughs. Madox, Firma Burgi, cap. i. sect. ix. Hume's History of England,
vol. i. Append, i. and ii. It is not improbable that some of the towns in England were
formed into corporations under the Saxon kings, and that the charters granted by the
kings of the Norman race were not charters of enfranchisement from a state of slavery,
but a confirmation of privileges which they already enjoyed. See Lord Lyttelton's His-
tory of Henry II. vol. ii. p. 317. The English cities, however, were very inconsiderable
in the twelftli century. A clear proof of this occurs in the history to which I last re-
ferred. Fitzstephen, a contemporary author, gives a description of the city of London
in the reign of Henry IL, and the terms in which he speaks of its trade, its wealth, and
the splendour of its inhabitants, would suggest no inadequate idea of its state at present,
when it is the greatest and most opulent city of Europe. But all ideas of grandeur and
magnificence are merely comparative ; and every description of them in general terms is
very apt to deceive. It appears from Peter of Blois, archdeacon of London, who flourished
in the same reign, and who had good opportunity of being well informed, that this city,
of which Fitzstephen gives such a pompous account, contained no more than forty
thousand inhabitants. Ibid. pp. 315, 316. The other cities were small in proportion,
and were not in a condition to extort any extensive privileges. That the constitution of
the boroughs in Scotland, in many circumstances, resembled that of the towns in France
and England, is manifest from the Leges Burgorum, annexed to the Regiam Majestatem.

(19), page 18. — Soon after the introduction of the third estate into the national council,
the spirit of liberty which that excited in France began to produce conspicuous effects.
In several provinces of France the nobihty and communities formed associations, whereby
they bound themselves to defend their rights and privileges against the formidable and
arbitrary proceedings of the king. The count de Boulainvilliers has preserved a copy
of one of these associations, dated in the year 1314, twelve years after the admission of
the deputies from towns into the states-general. Histoire de I'ancien Gouvernement
de la France, tom. ii. 94. The vigour with which the people asserted and prepared to
maintain their rights, obliged their sovereigns to respect them. Six years after this asso-
ciation, Philip the Long issued a writ of summons to the community of Narbonne, in
the following terms: — " Philip, by the grace, &c. to our well-beloved, &c. As we desire
with all our heart, and above all other things, to govern our kingdom and people in
peace and tranquillity, by the help of God ; and to reform our said kingdom in so far as
it stands in need thereof, for the public good, and for the benefit of our subjects, who in
times past have been aggrieved and oppressed in divers manners by the malice of sundry
persons, as we have learned by common report, as well as by the information of good
men worthy of credit, and we having determined in our council which we have called to
meet in our good city, &c., to give redress to the utmost of our power, by all ways and
means possible, according to reason and justice, and willing that this should be done
with solemnity and deliberation by the advice of the prelates, barons, and good towns of
our realm, and particularly of you, and that it should be transacted agreeably to tho
will of God, and for the good of our people, therefore we command," &c. Mably, Ob-
servat. ii. App. p. 386. 1 shall allow these to be only the formal words of a public and
legal style ; but the ideas are singular, and much more liberal and enlarged" than one
could expect in that age. A popular monarch of Great Britain could hardly address him-
self to parliament in terms more favourable to public liberty. There occurs in the
lujBtory of France a striking instance of the progress which the principles of liberty had

PKOOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. Cll

made in that kingdom, and of the influence which the deputies of towns had acquired
in the states-general. During the calamities in which the war with England, and the
captivity of Kmg John, had involved France, the states-general made a bold effort to
extend their own privileges and jurisdiction. The regulations established by the states,
held A.D. 1355, concerning the mode of levying taxes, the administration of which they
vested not in the crown, but in commissioners appointed by the states ; concerning the
coining of money; concerning the redress of the grievance of purveyance; concerning
the regular administration of justice ; are much more suitable to the genius of a repub-
lican government, than that of a feudal monarchy. This curious statute is published,
Ordon. torn. iii. p. 19. Such as have not an opportunity to consult that large collection,
will iind an abridgment of it in Hist, de France par Villaret tom. ix. p. 130, or in His-
toire de Boulainv. tom. ii. p. 213. The French historians represent the bishop of Laon,
and Marcel, provost of the merchants of Paris, who had the chief direction of this assem-
bly, as seditious tribunes, violent, interested, ambitious, and aiming at innovations sub-
versive of the constitution and government of their country. That may have been the
case ; but these men possessed the confidence of the people ; and the measures which they
proposed as the most popular and acceptable, as well as most likely to increase their own
influencej plainly prove that the spirit of liberty had spread wonderfully, and that the
ideas which then prevailed in France concerning government were extremely liberal
The states-general held at Paris a.d. 1355, consisted of about eight hundred members,
and above one-half of these were deputies from towns. M. Secousse, Pref. k Ordon.
tom. in*, p. 48. It appears that in all the different assemblies of the states, held during
the reign of John, the representatives of towns had great influence, and in every respect
the third state was considered as co-ordinate and equal to either of the other two. lb.
passim. These spirited efforts were made in France long before the House of Commons
in England acquired any considerable influence in the legislature. As the feudal system
was carried to its utmost height in France sooner than in England, so it began to decline
sooner in the former than in the latter kingdom. In England, almost all attempts to
establish or to extend the hberty of the people have been successful ; in France they have
proved unfortunate. What were the accidental events, or political causes, which occa-
sioned this difference, it is not my present business to inquire.

(20), page 18.— In a former note (No. 8) I have inquired into the condition of that
part of the people which was employed in agriculture ; and have represented the various
hardships and calamities of 'their situation. When charters of liberty or manumission
were gi-an_ted to such persons, tliey contained four concessions corresponding to the four
capital grievances to which men in a state of servitude are subject. 1. The right of
disposing of their persons by sale or grant was relinquished. 2. Power was given to
them of conveying their property and effects by will or any other legal deed. Or if they
happened to die intestate, it was provided that their property should go to their lawful
heirs in the same manner as the property of other persons. 3. The services and taxes
which they owed to their superior or liege lord, which were formerly arbitrary and im-
posed at pleasure, are precisely ascertained. 4. They are allowed the privilege of marry-
ing according to their own inclination ; formerly they could contract no marriage with-
out their lord's permission, and with no person but one of his slaves. All these particu-
lars are found united in the charter granted " Habitatoribus Montis Britonis," a.d. 1367.
Hist, de Dauphin^, tom. i. p. 81. Many circumstances concurred with those which I
have mentioned in the text in procuring them deliverance from that wretched state. The
gentle spirit of the Christian religion ; the doctrines which it teaches, concerning the
original equality of mankind ; its tenets with respect to the divine government, and the
impartial eye with which the Almighty regards men of every condition, and admitt
them to a participation of his benefits, are all inconsistent with servitude. But in this,
as in many other instances, considerations of interest, and the maxims of false policyj
led men to a conduct inconsistent with their principles. They were so sensible, however,
of this inconsistency, that to set their fellow-Christians at liberty from servitude was
deemed an act of piety highly meritorious and acceptable to Heaven. The humane
epirit of the Christian religion struggled long with the maxims and manners of the world,
and contributed more than any other circumstance to introduce the practice of manu-
mission. When Pope Gregory the Great, who flourished toward the end of the sixth
century, granted liberty to some of his slaves, he gives this reason for it : " Cum Re-

614 PROOJfS AND ILLTJSTEATIONS.

demptor noster, totius conditor naturae, ad hoc propitiatus humanam carnem voluerit
assumere, ut divinitatis suae gratia, dirempto (quo tenebamur captivi) vinculo pristins
nos restitueret libertati ; salubriter agitur, si homines, quos ab initio hberos natura pro-
tulit, et jus gentium jugo substituit servitutis, in ea, qua nati fuerant, manurnittentis
beneficio, hbertati reddantur." Gregor. Magn. ap. Potgiess. Hb. iv. c. 1, § 3. Several
laws or charters founded on reasons similar to this are produced by the same author.
Accordingly, a great part of the charters of manumission, previous to the reign of
Louis X., are granted " pro amore Dei, pro remedio anim^, et pro mercede animae."
Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. i. pp. 849, 850. Du Cange, voc. Manumissio. The formality of
manumission was executed in a church, as a religious solemnity. The person to be set
free was led round the great altar with a torch in his hand, he took hold of the horns of
the altar, and there the solemn words conferring liberty were pronounced. Du Cange,
ibid. vol. iv. p. 467. I shall transcribe a part of a charter of manumission, granted a.d.
1056 ; both as it contains a full account of the ceremonies used in this form of manu-
mission, and as a specimen of the imperfect knowledge of the Latin tongue in that bar-
barous age. It is granted by Willa, the widow of Hugo, the duke and marquis, in favour
of Clariza, one of her slaves: " Et ideo nos Domine Wille indite cometisse — libera et
absolve te Cleriza filia Uberto — pro timore omnipotentis Dei, et remedio luminarie anirae
bone memorie quondam supra scripto Domini Ugo gloriossissimo, ut quando ilium Do-
minus de hac vita migrare jusserit, pars iniqua non abeat potestatem ullam, sed anguelns
Domini nostri Jesu Christi colocare dignitur ilium inter sanctos dilectos suos ; et beatus
Petrus princips apostolorum, qui habed potestatem omnium animarum ligandi et absol-
vendi, ut ipsi absolvat animaj ejus de peccatis sui, aperiad ilium janua paradisi: pro
eadem vero rationi, in mano mite te, Benzo presbiter, ut vadat tecum in ecclesia sancti
Bartholomsei apostoli ; traad de tribus vicibus circa altare ipsius ecclesiae cum caereo
apprehensum in manibus tuis et manibus suis; deinde exite ambulate in via quadrubio,
nbi quatuor vie se dividuntur. Statimque pro remedio luminarie anime bone memorie
quondam supra scripto Domini Ugo et ipsi presbiter Benzo fecit omnia, et dixit, Ecce
quatuor vie, ite et ambulate in quacunque partem tibi placuerit, tarn sic supra scripta
Cleriza, qua nosque tui heredes, qui ab ac hora in antea nati, vel procreati fuerit utri-
Tisque sexus," &c. Murat. ibid. p. 853. Many other charters might have been selected,
which, in point of grammar or style, are in nowise superior to this. Manumission was
frequently granted on death-bed or by latter will. As the minds of men are at that
time awakened to sentiments of humanity and piety, these deeds proceeded from reli-
gious motives, and were granted pro redemptione animce, in order to obtain acceptance
with God. Du Cange, ubi supra, p. 470, et voc. Servus, vol. vi. p. 451. Another method
of obtaining liberty was by entering into holy orders, or taking the vow in a monastery.
This was permitted for some time, but so many slaves escaped, by this means, out of the
hands of their masters, that the practice was afterwards restrained, and at last prohibited
by the laws of almost all the nations of Europe. Murat. ibid. p. 842. Conformably
to the same principles, princes, on the birth of a son, or upon any other agreeable event,
appointed a certain number of slaves to be enfranchised, as a testimony of their gratitude
to God for that benefit. Marculfi Form. hb. i. cap. 39. There are several f^orras of
manumission published by Marculfus, and all of them are founded on religious consi-
derations, in order to procure the favour of God, or to obtain the forgiveness of their sins.
Lib. ii. c. 23, 33, 34, edit. Baluz. The same observation holds with respect to the other
collections of Formuia3 annexed to Marculfus. As sentiments of religion induced some to
grant Uberty to their fellow-Christians who groaned under the yoke of servitude, so mis-
taken ideas concerning devotion led others to relinquish their liberty. When a person
conceived an extraordinary respect for the saint who was the patron of any church or
monastery in which he was accustomed to attend religious worship, it was not unusual
among men possessed with an excess of superstitious reverence, to give up themselves
and their posterity to be the slaves of the saint. Mabillon, De Re Diplomat, lib. vi. 632.
The oblati, or voluntary slaves of churches or monasteries, were very numerous, and
may be divided into three diiierent classes. The tirst were such as put themselves and
effects under the protection of a particular church or monastery, binding themselves to
defend its privileges and property against every aggressor. These were prompted to
do so not merely by devotion, but in order to obtain that security which arose from the
protection of the church. They were rather vassals than slaves ; and sometimes persons
of noble birth found it prudent to secure the protection of the church in this manner

K

PKOOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 618

I'ersons of the second class bound tliemseives to pay an annual tax or quit-rent out of
tlieii- estates to a church or monastery. Besides this, they sometimes engaged to pert'orm
certain ssi-vices. They were called cen»uales. Tiie last class consisted of such as actually
renounced their liberty, and became slaves in the strict and proper sense of the word.
These were called ministeriales, and enslaved their bodies, as some of the charters bear,
that they might procure the hberty of their souls. Potgiesserus, De Statu Servorum,
lib. i. cap. i. §§ 6, 7. How zealous the clergy were to encourage the opinions which led to
this practice, will appear from a clause in a charter by which one gives up himself as a
slave to a monastery. " Cum sit omni carnali ingenuitate generosius extremum quod-
cumque Dei servitium, scilicet nuod terrena nobiUtas multos plerumque vitiorum servos
facit, servitus vero Christi nobiles virtntibus reddit, nemo autem sani capitis virtutibus
vitia comparaverit, claret pro certo eum esse generosiorem, qui se Dei servitio prasbnerit
proniorem. Quod ego Ragnaldus intelligens," &c. Another charter b expressed in
the following words: " Eligens magis esse servus Dei qitam libertus sgeculi, tirmiter
credens et sciens, quod servire Deo, regnare est, summaque ingenuitas sit in qua ser-
vitus comparabatur Christi," &c. JDu Cange, voc. Oblattis, vol. iv. pp. 1286, 1287.
Great, however, as the power of religion was, it does not appear that the enfranchisement
of slaves was a frequent practice while the feudal system preserved its vigour. On the
contrary, there were laws which set bounds to it as detrimental to society. Potgiess.
lib. iv, c. 2, § 6. The inferior order of men owed the recovery of their liberty to the
decHne of that aristocratical policy which lodged the most extensive power in the hands of
a few members of the society, and depressed all the rest. When Louis X. issued his or-
dinance, several slaves had been so long accustomed to servitude, and their minds were
so much debased by that unhappy situation, that they refused to accept of the liberty
which was offered them. D'Acher. Spicih vol. xi. p. 887. Long after the reign of Louis X.,
several of the French nobility continued to assert their ancient dominion over theu-
slaves. It appears, from an ordinance of the famous Bertrand de Guesclin, constable of
France, that the custom of enfranchising them was considered as a pernicious innova-
tion. Morice, Mem. pour servir de Preuves k I'Hist. de Bret. torn. ii. p. 100. In some
instances, when the praesdial slaves were declared to be freemen, they were still bound
to perform certain services to their ancient masters ; and were kept in a state different
from other subjects, being restricted either from purchasing land, or becoming mem-
bers of a community within the precincts of the manor to which they formerly belonged.
Martene et Durand, Thesaur. Anecdot. vol. i. p. 914. This, however, seems not to have
been common. — There is no general law for the manumission of slaves in the statute-
book of England, similar to that which has been quoted from the ordonnances of the
kings of France. Though the genius of the Englisli constitution seems early to hare
favoured personal liberty, personal servitude, nevertlieless, continued long in England in
some particular places. In the year 1514, we find a charter of Henry VIII. enfran-
chising two slaves belonging to one of his manors. Rym. Feeder, vol. xiii. p. 470. As late
s the year 1574, there is a commission from Queen Elizabeth with respect to the manu-
"ssiou of certaui bondmen belonging to her. Kymer, in Observat. on the Statutes, &c.,
251.

(21), page 21. — There is no custom in the middle ages more singular than that o
private war. It is a right of so great importance, and prevailed so universally, that the
regulations concerning it occupy a considerable place in the system of laws during the
middle ages. M. de Montesquieu, who has unravelled so many intricate points in feudal
jurisprudence, and thrown light on so many customs formerly obscure and unintelligible,
was not led by his subject to consider this. I shall therefore give a more minute account
of thf customs and regulations which directed a practice so contrary to the present ideas
of civilized nations concerning government and order. 1. Among the ancient Germans,
as well as other cations in a similar state of society, the right of avenging injuries was
a private and personal right exercised by force of arms, without any reference to an um-
pire, or any appeal to a magistrate for decision. The clearest proofs of this were pro-
duced, Note 6. — 2. This practice subsisted among the barbarous nations, after their set-
tlement in the provinces of the empire which they conquered ; and as the causes of dis-
sension among them multiplied, their family feuds and private wars became more fre-
quent. Proofs of this occur in their early historians. Greg. Turon Hist. liv. vii. c. 2y
hb. viii. c. 18, lib. x. c. 27, and likewise in the codes of their laws. It was not only

616 PEOOrS AND ILLUSiEATIONS.

allowable for the relations to avenge the injuries of their family, but it was incumbent
on them. Thus, by the laws of the Angli and Werini, " ad quemcunque hereditas
terrse pervenerit, ad ilium vestis bellica, id est lorica et ultio proximi, et soiatio leudis,
debet pertinere," tit. vi. § 5, ap. Lindenbr. Leg. Saliq. tit. (J3. Leg. Longob. lib. ii.
tit. 14, § 10. — 3. None but gentlemen, or persons of noble birtli, had the right of private
war. All disputes between slaves, villani, the inhabitants of towns, and freemen of
inferior condition, were decided in the courts of justice. All disputes between gentlemen
and persons of inferior rank were terminated in the same manner. The right of private
war supposed nobility of birth, and equality of rank, in both the contending parties.
Beaumanoir, Coustumes de Beauv. ch. lix. p. 300. Ordon. des Rois de France, tom. ii.
p. 395, § xvii. p. 508, § xv. &c. The dignified ecclesiastics likewise claimed and exercised
the right of private war ; but, as it was not altogether decent for them to prosecute
quarrels in person, advocati or vidames were chosen by the several monasteries and
bishoprics. These were commonly men of high rank and reputation, who became the
protectors of the churches and convents by which they were elected ; espoused their
quarrels, and fought their battles ; " armis omnia quae erant ecclesiae viriliter defendebant,
et vigilanter protegebant." Brussel, Usage des Fiefs, tom. i. p. 144. Du Cange, voc.
Advocatus. On many occasions, the martial ideas to which ecclesiastics of noble birth
were accustomed, made them forget the pacific spirit of their profiession, and led them
into the field in person, at the head of their vassals, " flamma, ferro, csede, possessiones
ecclesiarum prselati defendebant." Guido Abbas, ap. Du Cange, ib. p. 179. — 4. It was
not every injury or trespass that gave a gentleman a title to make war upon his adver-
sary. Atrocious acts of violence, insults, and affronts, publicly committed, were legal
and permitted motives for taking arms against the authors of them. Such crimes
as are now punished capitally in civilized nations, at that time justified private hos-
tilities. Beauman. ch. lix. Du Cange, Dissert, xxix. sur Joinville, p. 331. But, though
the avenging of injuries was the only motive that could legally authorize a private war,
yet disputes concerning civil property often gave rise to hostihties, and were terminated
by the sword. Du Cange, Dissert, p. 332. — 5. All persons present, when any quarrel
arose, or any act of violence was committed, were included in the war which it occa-
sioned ; for it was supposed to be impossible for any man in such a situation to remain
neuter, without taking side with one or other of the contending parties. Beauman. p.
300. — 6. All the kindred of the two principals in the war were included in it, and obliged
to espouse the quarrel of the chieftain with Whom they were connected. Du Cange, ibid.
332. This was founded on the maxim of the ancient Germans, " suscipere tam inimi-
citias seu patris, sen propinqui, quam amicitias, necesse est ;" a maxim natural to all
rude nations, among which the form of society, and political union, strengthen such
a sentiment. This obligation was enforced by legal authority. If a person refused to
take part in the quarrel of his kinsman, and to aid him against his adversary, he was
deemed to have renounced all the rights and privileges of kindredship, and became in-
capable of succeeding to any of his relations, or of deriving any benefit from any civil
right or property belonging to them, Du Cange, Dissert, p. 333. The method of ascer-
taining the degree of affinity which obliged a person to take part in the quarrel of a kins-
man, was curious. While the church prohibited the marriage of persons within the
seventh degree of affinity, the vengeance of private war extended as far as this absurd
prohibition, and all who had such a remote connexion with any of the principals were
mvolved in the calamities of war. But when the church relaxed somewhat of its rigour,
and did not extend its prohibition of marrying beyond the fourth degree of affinity, the
same restriction took place in the conduct of private war. Beauman. 303. Du Cange,
Dissert. 333. — 7. A private war could not be carried on between two full brothers, be
(iause both have the same common kindred, and consequently neither had any persons
bound to stand by him against the other, in the contest ; but two brothers of the half
blood might wage war, because each of them has a distinct kindred. Beauman. p. 299.
— 8. The vassals of each principal in any private war were involved in the contest,
because, by the feudal maxims, they were bound to take arms in defence of the chieftain
of whom they held, and to assist him in every quarrel. As soon, therefore, as feudal
tenures were introduced, and this artificial connexion was established between vassals
and ths baron of whom they held, vassals came to be considered as in the same state
with relations. Beauman. 303. — 9. Private wars were very frequent for several cen-
turies. Nothing contributed more to increase those disorders in govemment, or to

PEOOrS AND ILLT7STEATI0NS. 617

encourage such ferocity of manners as reduced the nations of Europe to that wretched
state which distinguished the period of history which I am reviewing. Nothing was
such an obstacle to the introduction of a regular administration of justice. Nothing could
more effectually discourage industry, or retard the progress and cultivation of the arts of
peace. Private wars were carried on with all the destructive rage which is to be dreaded
from violent resentment, when armed with force and authorized by law. It appears
from ^ the statutes, nrohibiting or restraining the exercise of private hostilities, that the
invasion of the most barbarous enemy could not be more desolating to a country, or more
fatal to its inhabitants, than those intestine wars. Ordon. tom. i. p. 701, torn. ii. pp.
395, 408, 507, &c. The contemporary historians describe the excesses committed m
prosecution of these quarrels in such terms as excite astonishment and horror. I shall
mention onljr one passage from the History of the Holy War, by Guibert, abbot of
Nogeut: " Lrat eo tempore, maximis ad invlcem hostilitatibus, totius Francorum regni
facta turbatio ; crebra ubique latrocinia, viarum obsessio ; audiebantur passim, immo
fiebant incendia infinita; nullis praeter sola et indomita cupiditate existentibus causis,
extruebantur przelia ; et ut brevi totum claudam, quicquid obtutibus cupidorum sub-
jacebat, nusquam attendendo cujus esset, praedae patebat." Gesta Dei per Francos, vol. L
p. 482.

Having thus collected the chief regulations which custom had established concerning
the right and exercise of private war, 1 shall enumerate, in chronological order, the various
expedients employed to abolish or restrain this fatal custom. 1. The first expedient em-
ployed by the civil magistrate, in order to set some bounds to the violence of private re-
venge, was the fixing by law the fine or comjX)sition to be paid for each different crime.
The injured person was originally the sole judge concerning the nature of the wrong
which he had suffered, the degree of vengeance which he should exact, as well as the
species of atonement or reparation with which he might rest satisfied. Eesentment
became, of course, as implacable as it was fierce. It was often a point of honour
not to forgive, nor to be reconciled. This made it necessary to fix those compositions
which make so great a figure in the laws of barbarous nations. The nature of crimes
and offences was estimated by the magistrate, and the sum due to the person offended
was ascertained with a minute, and often a whimsical accuracy, Rotharis, the legislator
of the Lombards, who reigned about the middle of the seventh century, discovers his in-
tention both in ascertaining the composition to be paid by the offender, and in increasing
its value ; it is, says he, that the enmity may be extinguished, the prosecution may cease,
and peace may be restored. Leg. Longob. lib. i. tit. 7, § 10. — 2. About the beginning of
the ninth century, Charlemagne struck at the root of the evil, and enacted, "That when
any person had been guilty of a crime, or had committed an outrage, he should imme-
diately submit to the penance which the church imposed, and offer to pay the com-
position which the law prescribed ; and if the injured person or his kindred should refuse
to accept of this, and presume to avenge themselves by force of arms, their lands and
properties should be forfeited." Capitul. A.D. 802, edit. Baluz. vol. i. 371. — 3. But in
this, as well as in other regulations, the genius of Charlemagne advanced before the spirit
of his age. The ideas of his contemporaries concerning regular government were too
imperfect, and their manners too fierce, to submit to this law. Private wars, with all
the calamities which they occasioned, became more frequent than ever after the death of
that great monarch. His successors were unable to restrain them. The church found
it necessary to interpose. The most early of these interpositions now extant is towards
the end of the tenth century. In the year 990, several bishops in the south of France
■assembled, and published various regulations, in order to set some bounds to the violence
and frequency of private wars ; if any person within their dioceses should venture to
transgress, they ordained that he should be excluded from all Christian privileges during
his life, and be denied Christian burial after his death. Du Mont, Corps Diplomatique,
tom. i. p. 41. These, however, were only partial remedies ; and, therefore, a council was
held at Limoges, a.d. 994. The bodies of the saints, according to the custom of those
ages, were carried thither; and by these sacred relics men were exhorted to lay down
their arms, to extinguish their animosities, and to swear that they would not, for the
future, violate the public peace by their private hostilities. Bouquet, Recueil des Histor.
vol. X. pp. 49, 147. Several other councils issued decrees to the same effect. Du Cange,
Dissert. 343. — 4. But the authority of councils, how venerable soever in those ages, waa
not sufficient to abolish a custom which flattered the pride of the nobles, and gratified

618 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

their favourite passions. The evil grew so intolerable, that it became necessary to cm-
ploy supernatural means for suppressing it. A bishop of Aqnitaine, a.d. 1032, pre-
tended that an angel had appeared to him, and brought him a writing from heaven, en-
joining men to cease from their hostilities, and to be reconciled to each other. It was
during a season of public calamity that he published this revelation. The minds of men
were disposed to receive pious impressions, and willing to perform anything in order to
avert the wrath of heaven. A general peace and cessation from hostilities took place,
and continued for seven years ; and a resolution was formed that no man should, in
times to come, attack or molest his adversaries during the seasons set apart for cele-
brating the great festivals of the church, or from the evening of Thursday in each week
to the morning of Monday in the week ensuing; the intervening days being considered
as particularly holy, our Lord's passion having happened on one of these days, and his
resurrection on another. A change in the dispositions of men so sudden, and which pro-
duced a resolution so unexpected, was considered as miraculous ; and the respite from
hostilities which followed upon it, was called the truce of God. Glaber. Rodulphus,
Histor. lib. v. ap. Bouquet, vol. x. p. 59. This, from being a regulation or concert in
one kingdom, became a general law in Christendom, was confirmed by the authority of
several popes, and the violators were subjected to the penalty of excommunication.
Corpus Jur. Canon. Decretal, lib. i. tit. 34, c. 1. Du Cange, Glossar. voc. Treuga. An
act of the council of Toulujes in Rousillon, A.D. 1041, containing all the stipulations re-
quired by the truce of God, is published by Dom de Vic. et Dom Vaisette, Hist, de
Languedoc, tom. ii. Preuves, p. 206. A cessation from hostihties during three complete
days in every week, allowed such a considerable space for the passions of the antagonists
to cool, and for the people to enjoy a respite from the calamities of war, as well as to
take measures for their own security, that, if this truce of God had been exactly ob-
served, it must have gone far towards putting an end to private wars. This, however,
seems not to have been the case ; the nobles, disregarding the truce, prosecuted their
quarrels without interniption as formerly. " Qua nimirum tempestate, universae pro-
vincias adeo devastationis continuse importunitate inquietantur, ut ne ipsa, pro observa-
tione diviase pacis, professa sacramenta custodiantur." Abbas Uspurgensis, apud Datt.
de Pace Imperii PuUica, p. 13, No. 35. The violent spirit of the nobility could not be
restrained by any engagements. The complaints of this were frequent ; and bishops, in
order to compel them to renew their vows and promises of ceasing from their private
wars, were obliged to enjoin their clergy to suspend the performance of divine service,
and the exercise of any religious function, within the parishes of such as were refractory
and obstinate. Hist, de Langued. par D. D. de Vic. et Vaisette, tom. ii. Preuves, p.
118, — 5. The people, eager to obtain relief from their sufferings, called in a second time
revelation to their aid. Towards the end of the twelfth century, a carpenter in Guienne
gave out that Jesus Christ, together with tlie blessed Virgin, had appeared to him, and
having commanded him to exhort mankind to peace, had given him, as a proof of his
mission, an image of the Virgin holding her Son in her arms, with this inscription. Lamb
of God, who takest away the sins of the world, give us peace. This low fanatic ad-
dressed himself to an ignorant age, prone to credit what was marvellous. He was re-
ceived as an inspired messenger of God. Many prelates and bai*ons assembled at Puy,
and took an oath, not only to make peace with all their enemies, but to attack such as
refused to lay down their arms, and to be reconciled to their enemies. They formed an
association for this purpose, and assumed the honourable name of the brotherhood of God.
Kobertus de Monte Michaele, ap. M. de Lauri^re, Pref. tom. i. Ordon. p. 29. But
the influence of this superstitious terror or devotion was not of long continuance. — 6. The
civil magistrate was obliged to exert his authority in order to check a custom which
threatened the dissolution of government. Philip Augustus, as same imagine, or St.
Louis, as is more probable, published an ordinance, a.d. 1245, prohibiting any person to
commence hostilities against the friends and vassals of his adversary, until forty days
after the commission of tbe crime or offence which gave rise to the quarrel; declaring
tliat if any man presumed to transgress this statute, he should be considered as guilty
of a breach of the public peace, and be tried and punished by the judge ordinary as a
traitor. Ordon. tom. i. p. 56. This was called the royal truce, and afforded time for the
violence of resentment to subside, as well as leisure for the good offices of such as were
willing to compose the difference. The happy effects of this regulation seem to have been
coDsiderall le, if we may judge from the solicitude of succeeding monarchs to enforce it. —

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 619

7. In order to restrain the exercise of private war still farther, Philip the Fair, towards
the close of the same century, a.d. 1296, published an ordinance commanding all private
hostilities to cease, while he was engaged in war against the enemies of the state. Ordon.
torn. i. pp. 328, 390. This regulation, which seems to be almost essential to the exist-
ence and preservation of society, was often renewed by his successors, and, being en-
forced by the regal authority, proved a considerable check to the destructive contests of
the nobles. Botti these regulations, introduced first in France, were adopted by the
other nations of Europe. — 8. The evil, however, was so inveterate, that it did not
yield to all these remedies. No sooner was public peace established in any kingdom, than
the barons renewed their private hostilities. They not only struggled to maintain this
pernicious right, but to secure the exercise of it without any restraint. Upon the death
of Philip the Fair, the nobles of different provinces in France formed associations, and
presented remonstrances to his successor demanding the repeal of several laws, by which
he had abridged the privileges of their order. Among these, the right of private war is
always menJioned as one of tlie most valuable ; and they claim that the restraint im-
posed by the truce of God, the royal truce, as well as that arising from the ordinance of
the year 1296, should be taken off. In some instances, the two sons of Philip, who
mounted the throne successively, eluded their demands ; in others, they were obliged
to make concessions. Ordon. torn. i. pp. 551, 557, 561, 673. The ordinances to which
I here refer are of such length that I cannot insert them ; but they are extremely cui-ious,
and may be peculiarly instructive to an English reader, as they throw considerable
light on that period of English history in which the attempts to circumscribe the regal
prerogative were carried on, not by the people struggling for liberty, but by the nobles
contending for power. It is not necessary to produce any evidence of the continuance
and frequency of private wars under the successors of Philip the Fair. — 9. A practice
somewhat similar to the royal truce was introduced, in order to strengthen and extend
it. Bonds of assurance, or mutual security, were demanded from the parties at variance,
by which tliey obliged themselves to abstain from all hostilities, either during a time
mentioned in the bond, or for ever, and became subject to heavy penalties if they violated
this obligation. These bonds were sometimes granted voluntarily, but more frequently
exacted by the authority of the civil magistrate. Upon a petition from the party
who felt himself weakest, the magistrate summoned his adversary to appear in court,
and obliged him to give him a bond of assurance. If, after that, he committed any
further hostilities, he became subject to all the penalties of treason. This restraint
on private war was known in the age of St. Louis. Establissements, liv. i. c. 28. It was
frequent in Bretagne; and, what is very remarkable, such bonds of assurance were
given mutually between vassals and the lord of whom they held. OHver de Clissoa
grants one to the duke of Bretagne, his sovereign. Morice, M^m. pour servir de Preuves
k rijist. de Bret. tom. i. p. 846; ii. p. 371. Many examples of bonds of assurance
in other provinces of France are collected by Brussel, tom. ii. p. 856. The nobles of
Burgundy remonstrated against this practice, and obtained exemption from it as an en-
croachment on the privileges of their order. Ordon. tom. i. p. 558. This mode of se-
curity was first introduced into cities, and, the good effects of it having been ft It there,
was extended to the nobles. See Note 16. — 10. The calamities occasioned by private
wars became at some times so intolerable, that the nobles entered into voluntary asso-
ciations, binding themselves to refer all matters in dispute, whether concerning civil pro-
Srty or points of honour, to the determination of the majority of the associates,
orice, Mem. pour servir de Preuves b- I'Hist. de Bret. tom. ii. p. 728. — 1 1. But all
these expedients proving ineffectual, Charles VI., a.d. 1413, issued an ordinance ex-
pressly prohibiting private wars on any pretext whatsoever, with power to the judge
ordinary to compel all persons to comply with this injunction, and to punish such as
should prove refractory or disobedient, by imprisoning tiieir persons, seizing their goods,
and appointing the officers of justice, manageurs et gasteurs, to live at free quarters on
their estate. If those who were disobedient to this edict could not be personally ar-
rested, he appointed their friends and vassals to be seized, and detained until they 'gave
surety for keeping the peace; and he abolished all laws, customs, or privileges, which
might be pleaded in opposition to this ordinance. Ordon. tom. x. p. 138. How slow
is the progress of reason and of civil order! Regulations whicn to us appear so
equitable, obvious, and simple, required the efforts of civil and ecclesiastical authority,
during several centuries, to introduce and establish them. Even posterior to this period.

620 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

Louis XI. was obliged to abolish private wars in Dauphine, by a particular edict, a.d.
1451. Du Cange, Dissert, p. 348.

This note would swell to a disproportionate bulk, if I should attempt to inquire, with
the same minute attention, into the progress of this pernicious custom in the other
countries of Europe. In England, the ideas of the Saxons concerning personal revenge,
the right of private wars, and the composition due to the party offended, seem to have
been much the same with those which prevailed on the continent. The law of Ina, de
vindicantihus, in the eighth century, Lamb. p. 3 ; those of Edmund in the tenth cen-
tury, de homicidio, Lamb. p. 72, and de inimicitiis, p. 76 ; and those of Edward the
Confessor, in the eleventh century, de temporihus et diebus pacts, or Treuga Dei, Lamb,
p. 126, are perfectly similar to the ordonnances of the French kings their contempo-
raries. The laws of Edward, de pace regis, are still more explicit than those of the
French monarchs, and, by several provisions in them, discover that a more perfect police
was established in England at that period. Lombard, p. 128, fol. vers. Even after the
conquest, private wars, and the regulations for preventing them, were not altogether un-
known, as appears from Madox, Eormulare Anglicanum, No. cxlv., and from the ex-
tracts from Domesday Book, published by Gale, Scriptores Hist. Britan. pp. 759, 777.
The well-known clause in the form of an English indictment, which, as an aggravation
of the criminal's guilt, mentions his having assaulted a person who was in the peace
of God and of the king, seems to be borrowed from the Treuga or Pax Dei, and the Pax
Eegis, which I have explained. But after the conquest, the mention of private wars
among the nobility occurs more rarely in the English history than in that of any other
European nation, and no laws concerning them are to be found in the body of their sta-
tutes. Such a change in their own manners, and such a variation from those of their
neighbours, is remarkable. Is it to be ascribed to the extraordinary power that William
the Norman acquired by right of conquest, and transmitted to his successors, which
rendered the execution of justice more vigorous and decisive, and the jurisdiction of the
king's court more extensive than under the monarchs on the continent? Or, was it
owing to the settlement of the Normans in England, who, having never adopted the prac-
tice of private war in their own country, abolished it in the kingdom which they con-
quered? It is asserted in an ordinance of John, king of France, that in all times past,
persons of every rank in Normandy have been prohibited to wage private war, and the
practice has been deemed unlawful. Ordon. torn. ii. p. 407. If this fact were certain,
it would go far towards explaining the peculiarity which I have mentioned. But as
there are some English acts of parliament which, according to the remark of the leamed
author of the Observations on the Statutes, chiefly the more ancient, recite falselioods,
it may be added that this is not peculiar to the laws of that country. Notwithstanding
the positive assertion contained in this public law of France, there is good reason for con-
sidering it as a statute which recites a falsehood. This, however, is not the place for
discussing that point. It is an inquiry not unworthy the curiosity of an English an-
tiquary.

In Castile, the pernicious practice of private war prevailed, and was authorized by the
customs and law of the kingdom. Leges Tauri, tit. 76, cum commentario Anton.
Gomezii. p. 551. As the Castilian nobles were no less turbulent than powerful, their
quarrels and hostilities involved their country in many calamities. Innumerable proofs
of this occur in Mariana. In Aragon the right of private revenge was likewise au-
thorized by law ; exercised in its full extent, and accompanied with the same unhappy con-
sequences. Hieron. Blanca, Comment, de Rebus Arag. ap. Schotti Hispan. illustrat. vol.
iii. p. 733. Lex Jacobi I. a.d. 1247. Fueros y Observancias del Rcyno de Aragon, lib.
ix. p. 182. Several confederacies between the kings of Aragon and their nobles, for the
restoring of peace, founded on the truce of God, are still extant. Petr. de Marca, Marca
sive Limes Hispanic. App. 1303, 1388, 1428. As early as the year 11G5, we find a
combination of the king and court of Aragon, in order to abolish the right of private
war, and to punish those who presumed to claim that privilege. Annales de Aragon
por Zurita, vol. i. p. 73. But the evil was so inveterate, that as late as a.d. 1519,
Charles V. was obliged to publish a law enforcing all former regulations tending to
suppress this practice. Fueros y Observanc. lib. ix. 183, b.

The Lombards, and other northern nations who settled in Italy, introduced the same
maxims conceming the right of revenge into that country, and these were followed by the
same effects. As the progresa of the evil was perfectly similar to what happened io

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 621

France, the expedients employed to check its career, or to extirpate it finally resembled
those which I have enumerated. Marat. Ant. Ital. vol. ii. pp. 306, &c.

In Germany, the disorders and calamities occasioned by tlie riglit of private war were
greater and more intolerable than in any other country of Europe. Tlie imperial au-
thority was so much shaken and enfeebled by the violence of the civil wars excited by
the contests between the popes and the emperors of the Franconian and Suabian lines, .
that not only the nobility but the cities acquired almost independent power, and scorned
all subordination and obedience to the laws. The frequency of these fa{d<B, or private
wars, is often mentioned in the German annals, and the fatal effects of them are most
pathetically described, Datt. de Pace Imper. pub. lib. i. cap. 5, No. 30, et passim. The
Germans early adopted the Treuga Dei, which was first established in France. This,
however, proved but a temporary and ineffectual remedy. The disorders multiplied so
fast, and grew to be so enormous, that they threatened the dissolution of society, and
compelled the Germans to have recourse to the only remedy of the evil, viz. an abso-
lute prohibition of private wars. The Emperor William published his edict to this
purpose, A.D. 1255, an hundred and sixty years previous to the ordinance of Charles VI.
m France. Datt. lib. i. cap. 4, No. 20. But neither he nor his successors had authority
to secure the observance of it. This gave rise to a practice in Germany, wliich conveys
to us a striking idea both of the intolerable calamities occasioned by private wars, and
of the feebleness of government during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The cities
and nobles entered into alliances and associations, by which they bound themselves to
maintain the public peace, and to make war on such as should violate it. This was the
origin of the league of the Rhine, of Suabia, and of many smaller confederacies distin-
guished by various names. The rise, progress, and beneficial effects of these associations
are traced by Datt with great accuracy. Whatever degree of public peace or of ret^ular
administration was preserved in the empire from the beginning V the twelfth century to
the close of the fifteenth, Germany owes to these leagues. During that period, political
order, respect for the laws, together with the equal administration of justice, made consi-
derable progi-ess in Germany. But the final and perpetual abolition of the 'right of pri-
vate war was not accomplished until A.D. 1495. The imperial authority was bv that
time more firmly established, the ideas of men with respect to government and subordi-
nation were become more just. That barbarous and pernicious privilege of waging pri-
vate war, which the nobles had so long possessed, was declared to be incompatible with
the happiness and existence of society. In order to terminate any differences which
might arise among the various members of the Germanic body, the Imperial Chamber
was instituted with supreme jurisdiction, to judge witliout appeal in every question
brought before it. That court has subsisted since that period, forming a very re-
spectable tribunal of essential importance in the German constitution. Datt. lib. iii. iv. v.
Pfeffel, Abreg^ de I'Histoire du Droit, &c. p. 556.

{22), page 26.— It would be tedious and of little use to enumerate the various modes
of appealing to the justice of God, which superstition introduced during the ages of
Ignorance. I shall mention only one, because we have an account of it in a placitum, or
trial, in the presence of Chariemagne, from which we may learn the imperfect manner in
which justice was administered even during his reign. In the year 775, a contest arose
between the bishop of Paris and the abbot of St. Denys, concerning the property of a
small abbey. Each of them exhibited deeds and records, in order to prove the right to
l)e_in them. Instead of trying the authenticity, or considering the import of these, the
point was referred to the judicium cruets. Each produced a person, who, during the
celebration of mass, stood before the cross with his arms expanded ; and he whose repre-
sentative first became weary, and altered his posture, lost the cause. The person em-
ployed by the bishop on this occasion had less strength or less spirit than his adversary,
and the question was decided in favour of the abbot. Mabillon De Re Diplomat, lib. vi.
p. 498. If a prince so enlightened as Charlemagne countenanced such an absurd mode of
decision, it is no wonder that other monarchs should tolerate it so long. M. de Montes-
quieu has treated of the trial by judicial combat at considerable length. The two talents
which distinguish that illustrious author— industry in tracing all the circumstances of
ancient and obscure institutions, and sagacity in penetrating into the causes and prin-
cipieswhich contributed to establish them — are equallv conspicuous in his observations
on this subject. To these 1 refer the reader, as they contain most of the principles by

622 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

which I hnve endeavoured to explain this practice. De I'Espirit des Loix, liv. xxviii. It
seems to be probable, from the remarks of M. de Montesquieu, as well as from the facts
produced by Muratori, torn. iii. Dissert, xxxviii., that appeals to the justice of God by the
experiments with fire and water, &c,, were frequent among the people who settled in the
different provinces of the Roman empire, before they had recourse to the judicial combat;
'and yet the judicial combat seems to have been the most ancient mode of terminating any
controversy among the barbarous nations in their original settlements. This is evident
from Velleius Paterculus, lib. ii. c. 118, who informs us that all questions which were
decided among the Romans by legal trial, were terminated among the Germans by arms.
The same thing appears in the ancient laws and customs of the Swedes, quoted by Jo. O.
Stiernhook de Jure Sueonum et Gothorum vetusto, 4to. Holmiae, 1682, lib. i. c. 7 It is
probable that when the various tribes which invaded the empire were converted to Chris-
tianity, their ancient custom of allowing judicial combats appeared so glaringly repug-
nant to the precepts of religion, that for some time it was abolished, and, by degrees,
several circumstances which I have mentioned led them to resume it.

It seems likewise to be probable, from a law quoted by Stiernhook in the treatise
which I have mentioned, that the judicial combat was originally permitted, in order to
determine points respecting the personal character or reputation of individuals, and was
afterwards extended not only to criminal cases, but to questions concerning property.
The words of the law are, " If any man shall say to another these reproachful words,
* You are not a man equal to other men,' or ' You have not the heart of a man,' and the
other shall reply, ' I am a man as good as you,' let them meet on the highway. If he who
first gave offence appear, and the person offended absent himself, let the latter be deemed
a worse man even than he was called ; let him not be admitted to give evidence in judg-
ment either for man or woman, and let him not have the privilege of making a testament.
If he who gave the offence be absent, and only the person offended appear, let him call
upon the other thrice with a loud voice, and make a mark upon the earth, and then let
him who absented himself be deemed infamous, because he uttered words which he durst
not support. If both shall appear properly armed, and the person offended shall fall iu
the combat, let a half compensation be paid for his death. But if the person who gave
the offence shall fall, let it be imputed to his own rashness. The petulance of his tongue
hath been fatal to him. Let him lie iu the field without any compensation being de-
manded for his death." Lex Uplandica, ap. Stiern. p. 76. Martial people were extremely
delicate with respect to everything that affected their reputation as soldiers. By the
jaws of the Salians, if any man called another a hare, or accused him of having left
his shield in the field of battle, he was ordained to pay a large fine. Leg. Sal. tit. xxxii.
§ § 4, 6. By the law of the Lombards, if any one called another arga, i. e. a good-for-
nothing fellow, he inight immediately challenge him to combat. Leg. Longob. lib. i, tit.
V. § 1. By the law of the Salians, if one called another cenitus, a term of reproach equi-
valent to arga, he was bound to pay a very high fine. Tit. xxxii. § 1. Paulus Diaconus
relates the violent impression which this reproachful expression made upon one of his
countrymen, and the fatal effects with which it was attended. De Gestis Longobard. lir.
vi. c. 34. Thus the ideas concerning the point of honour, which we are apt to consider
as a modem refinement, as well as the practice of duelling, to which it gave rise, are de-
rived from the notions of our ancestors, while in a state of society very little improved.

As M. de Montesquieu's view of this subject did not lead him to consider every cir-
cumstance relative to judicial combats, I shall mention some particular facts necessary
for the illustration of what I have said with respect to them. A remarkable instance
occurs of the decision of an abstract point of law by combat. A question arose in the
tenth century concerning the 7'ight of representation, which was not then fixed, though
now universally established in every part of Europe. " It was a matter of doubt and
dispute (saith the historian) whether the sons of a sou ought to be reckoned among the
children of the family, and succeed equally with their uncles, if their father happened
to die while their grandfather was alive. An assembly was called to deliberate on this
point, and it was tiie general opinion that it ought to be remitted to the examination and
decision of judges. But the emperor, following a better course, and desirous of dealing
honourably with liis people and nobles, appointed the matter to be decided by battle
between two champions. He who appeared in behalf of the right of children to represent
their deceased father was victorious ; and it was established, by a perpetual decree, that
they should hereafter share in the inheritance together with their uncles." Wittikindus

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 623

Corbiensis, lib. Annal. ap. M. de Lauri^re, Pref. Ordon. vol. L p. xxxiii. If we can
suppose the caprice of folly to lead men to any action more extravagant than this of set-
tling a point in law by combat, it must be that of referring the truth or falsehood of a re-
hgious opinion to be decided in the same manner. To the disgrace of human reason, it
has been capable even of this extravagance. A question was agitated in Spain in the
eleventh century, whether the Musarabic liturgy and ritual which had been used in the
churches of Spam, or that approved of by the see of Rome, which differed in many par-
Jcuhirs from the other, contained the form of worship most acceptable to the Deitv.
Ihe Spaniards contended zealously for the ritual of their ancestors. The popes urged
them to receive that to which they had given their infallible sanctiou. A violent contest
arose. The nobles proposed to decide the controversy by the sword. The king approved
of this method of decision. Two knights in complete armour entered the lists. John
Kuvs de Matanca, the champion of the Musarabic liturgy, was victorious. But the queen
and archbishop of Toledo, wlio favoured the other form, insisted on having the matter
submitted to another trial, and had interest enough to prevail in a request, inconsistent
with the laws of combat, which being considered as an appeal to God, the decision ought
to have beeu acquiesced in as final. A great fire was kindled. A copy of each liturgy
was cast into the flames. It was agreed that the book which stood this proof, and re-
mained untouched, should be received in all the churches of Spain. The Musarabic
liturgy triumphed likewise in this trial, and if we may believe Roderigo de Toledo
remained unhurt by the fire, when the other was reduced to ashes. The queen and
archbishop had power or art sufficient to elude this decision also, and the use of the
Musarabic form of devotion was permitted only in certain churches. A determination no
less extraordinary than the whole transaction. Roder. de Toledo, quoted by P. Orleans
Hist, des Re'vol. d'Espagne, tom. i. p. 417. Mariana, lib. i. c. 18, vol. i. p. 378.— A re-
markable proof of the general use of trial by combat, and of the predilection for that
mode of decision, occurs in the laws of the Lombards. It was a custom in the middle
ages, that any person might signify publicly the law to which fie chose to be subjected-
and by the prescriptions of that law he was obliged to regulate his transactions, without
being bound to comply with any practice authorized by other codes of law. Persons
who had subjected themselves to the Roman law, and adhered to the ancient jurispru-
dence, as far as any knowledge of it was retained in those ages of ignorance, were
exempted from paying any regard to the forms of proceedings established" by the laws of
the Burgundians, Lombards, and other barbarous people. But the Emperor Otho in
direct contradiction to tiiis received maxim, ordained " That all persons, under whatever
law they lived, even although it were the Roman law, should be bound to conform to the
edicts concerning the trial by combat." Leg. Longob. lib. ii. tit. 55, § 38. While the
tnal by judicial combat subsisted, proof by charters, contracts, or other deeds, became
ineffectual; and even this si)ecics of written evidence, calculated to render the proceed-
ings of courts certain and decisive, was eluded. When a charter or other instrument was
produced by one of the parties, his opponent might challenge it, affirm that it was false
and forged, and offer to prove this by combat. Leg. Longob. ibid. § 34. It is true
that among the reasons enumerated by Beaumanoir, on account of which judges might
refuse to permit a trial by combat, one is, " If the point in contest can be clearly proved
or ascertained by other evidence." Const, de Beauv. ch. 63, p. 323. But that regulation
removed the evil only a single step. For the party who suspected that a witness was
about to depose in a manner unfavourable to his cause, might accuse him of being
suborned, give him the lie, and challenge him to combat ; if the witness was vanquished
m battle, no other evidence couid be admitted, and the party by whom he was summoued
to appear lost his cause. Leg. Baivar. tit. 16, § 2. Leg. Burgund. tit. 45. Beauman.
ch. 01, p. 315. The reason given for obliging a witness to accept of a defiance, and to
defend himself by combat, is remarkable, and contains the same idea which is still the
foundation of what is called the point of honour; " for it is just, that if any one affirms
that he perfectly knows the truth of anything, and offers to give oath upon it, that he
sliould not hesitate to maintain the veracity of his aflirmation in combat." Lee Bur-
gund. tit. 45. "

That the trial by judicial combat was established in every country of Europe, is
a fact well known, and requires no proof. That this mode of decision was frequent
appears not only from the codes of ancient laws which established it, but from the
earxiest writers concerning the practice of law in the different nations of Europe. They

624 PEOOFS AND ILLUSTllATIONS.

treat of this custom at great length: they enumerate the regulatkjus concerning it with
minute accuracy ; and explain them with much solicitude. It made a capital and ex-
tensive article in jurisprudence. There is not any one subject in their system of law
which Beaumanoir, Defontaines, or the compilers of the Assises de Jerusalem, seem to
have considered as of greater iniportance ; and none upon which they have bestowed so
much attention. The same observation will hold with respect to the early authors of other
nations. It appears from Madox that trials of this kind were so frequent in England,
that fines, paid on these occasions, made no inconsiderable branch of the king's revenue.
Hist, of the Excheq. vol. i. p. 349. A very curious account of a judicial combat between
Messire Robert de Beaumanoir and Messire Pierre Tournemine, in presence of the duke
of Bretagne, a.d. 1385, is published by Morice, M^m. pour servir de Preuves k I'Hist. de
Bretagne, torn. ii. p. 498. All the formalities observed in such extraordinary proceedings
are there described more minutely than in any ancient monument which I have had
an opportunity of considering. Tournemine was accused by Beaumanoir of having mur-
dered his brother. The former was vanquished, but was saved from being hanged upon
tlie spot by the generous intercession of his antagonist. A good account of the origin oi
the laws concerning judicial combat is published in the History of Pavia, by Bernardo
Sacci, lib. ix. c. 8, in Graev. Thes. Antiquit. Ital. vol. iii. p. 743.

This mode of trial was so acceptable, that ecclesiastics, notwithstanding the prohibi-
tions of the church, were constrained not only to connive at the practice, but to authorize
it. A remarkable instance of this is produced by Pasquier, Eecherches, lib. iv. c. i. p.
350. The Abbot Wittikindus, whose words I have produced in this note, considered
the determination of a point in law by combat, as the best and most honourable mode of
decision. In the year 978, a judicial combat was fought in the presence of the emperor.
The Archbishop Aldebert advised him to terminate a contest which had arisen between
two noblemen of his court by this mode of decision. The vanquished combatant, though
a person of high rank, was beheaded on the spot. Chronic. Ditmari, Episc. Mersb. apud
Bouquet, Eecueil des Hist. tom. x. p. 121. Questions concerning the property of churches
and monasteries were decided by combat. In the year 961 a controversy concerning the
church of St. Mddard, whether it belonged to the abbey of Beaulieu or not, was terminated
by judicial combat. Bouquet, Recueil des Hist. tom. ix. p. 729. Ibid. p. 612, &c.
The Emperor Henry I. declares that this law, authorizing the practice of judicial com-
bats, was enacted with consent and applause of many faithful bishops. Ibid. p. 231. So
remarkably did the martial ideas of those ages prevail over the genius and maxims of the
canon law, which in other instances was in the highest credit and authority with eccle-
siastics. A judicial combat was appointed in Spain, by Charles V., a.d. 1522. The com-
batants fought in the emperor's presence, and the battle was conducted with all the rites
})rescribed by the ancient laws of chivalry. The whole transaction is described at great
ength by Pontus Heuterus, Rer. Austriac. lib. viii. c. 17, p. 205.

The last instance which occurs in the history of France, of a judicial combat authorized
by the magistrate, was the famous one between M. Jarnac and M. de la Chaistaignerie,
A.D. 1547. A trial by combat was appointed in England, a.d. 1571, under the inspec-
tion of the judges in the Court of Common Pleas ; and though it was not carried to the
same extremity with the former. Queen EUzabeth having interposed her authority, and
enjoined the parties to compound the matter, yet, in order to preserve their honour, the
lists were marked out, and all the forms previous to the combat were observed with
much ceremony. Spelm. Gloss, voc. Campus, p. 103. In the year 1631, a judicial com-
bat was appointed between Donald Lord Reaand David Ramsay, Esq., by the authority
of the lord high constable and earl marshal of England ; but that quarrel likewise ter-
minated without bloodshed, being accommodated by Charles I. Another instance occurs
seven years later. Eushworth, in Observations on the Statutes, &c., p. 206.

(23), page 28. — The text contains the great outlines which mark the course of private
and public jurisdiction in the several nations of Europe. I shall here follow more mi-
nutely the various steps of this progress, ns the matter is curious and important enough
to merit this attention. The payment of a fine by way of satisfaction to the person or
family injured, was the first device of a rude people, in order to check the career of pri-
vate resentment, and to extinguish iho^ faidm, or deadly feuds, whicn were prosecuted
among them with the utmost violence. This custom may be traced back to the ancient
Germans, Tacit, de Morib. Germ. c. 21, and prevailed among other uncivilized nations.

PROOFS AND ILLUSTIUTIONS. 625

Many examples of this are collected by the ingenious and learned author of Historical
Law 1 facts, vol. i. p. 41. These fines were ascertained and levied in three different man-
ners. At first they were settled by voluntary agreement between the parties at variance.
When their rage began to subside, and they felt the bad effects of their continuing m
enmity, they came to terms of concord, and the satisfaction made was called a composi-
tion, implymg that it was fixed by mutual consent. De I'Esprit des Loix, liv. xxx.
c. 19. It is apparent from some of the more ancient codes of laws, that at the time
when these were compiled, matters still remained in that simple state. In certain cases,
the pei-son who had committed an offence, was left exposed to the resentment of those
^vhom he had injured, until he should recover their favour, " quoquo modo potuerit."
Leg. Frision. tit. 11, § 1. The next mode of levying these fines was by the sentence of
arbiters. An arbiter is called in the Regiam Majestatem amicabilis compositor, lib. xi.
c. 4,_§ 10. He could estimate the degree of offence with more impartiahty than the par-
ties interested, and determine with greater equity what satisfaction ought to be demanded.
It IS difficult to bring an authentic proof of a custom previous to the records preserved in
any nation of Europe. But one of the Formulae Andegavenses compiled in the sixth
century seems to allude to a transaction carried on, not by the authority of a judge, but
by the mediation of arbiters chosen by mutual consent. Bouquet, Recueil des Histor.
tom. iv. p. b&Q. ^ But as an arbiter wanted authority to enforce his decisions, judges
were appointed with compulsive power to oblige both parties to acquiesce in their decisions.
Previous to this last step, the expedient of paying compositions was an imperfect remedy
against the pernicious effects of private resentnient. As soon as this important change
was introduced, the magistrate, putting himself in the place of the person injured,
ascertained the composition with which he ought to rest satisfied. Every possible injury
that couW occur in the intercourse of civil society was considered, and estimated, and the
compositions due to the person aggrieved were fixed with such minute attention as dis-
covers, in most cases, amazing discernment and delicacy, in some instances unaccount-
able caprice. Besides the composition payable to the private party, a certain sum, called
Afredum, was paid to the king or state, as Tacitus expresses it, or to the fiscus, in the
language of the barbarous laws. Some authors, blending the refined ideas of modern
policy with their reasonings concerning ancient transactions, have imagined that the
fredum was a compensation due to the community on account of the violation of the
public peace. But it is manifestly nothing more than the price paid to the magistrate
for the protection which he afforded against the violence of resentment. The enacting of
this was a considerable step towards improvement in criminal jurisprudence. In some of
the more ancient codes of laws, ihefreda are altogether omitted, of so seldom mentioned,
that It is evident they were but little known. In the later codes, the fredum is as
precisely specified as the composition. In common cases, it was equal to the third part
of the composition. Capitul. vol. i. p. 52. In some extraordinary cases, where it was
more difficult to protect the person who had committed violence, the fredum was aug-
mented. Capitul. vol. i. p. 515. These freda made a considerable brand) in the reve-
nues of the barons ; and in whatever district territorial jurisdiction was granted, the royal
judges were prohibited from levying any/retfa. In explaining the nature of the fredum,
I have followed, in a great measure, the opinion of M. de Montesquieu, though I know
that several learned antiquaries have taken the word in a different sense. De I'Esprit
<Ies Loix, liv. xxx. c. 20, &c. The great object of judges was to compel the one party
to give, and the other to accept, the satisfaction prescribed. Thev multiplied regula-
tions to this purpose, and enforced them by grievous penalties. Leg. Longob. lib. ?. tit.
S, § 34. Ibid. tit. 37, § 1, 2. Capitul. vol. i. p. 371, § 22. The person who received
a composition was obliged to cease from all further hostility, and to confirm his recon-
ciliation with the adverse party by an oath. Leg. Longob. HI), i. tit. 9, § 8. As an
additional and more permanent evidence of reconciliation, he was required to grant a
bond of security to the person from whom he received a composition, absolving him
from all further prosecution. Marculfus, and the other collectors of ancient writs, have
preserved several different forms of such bonds. Marc. lib. xi. § 18. Append. § 23.
Form. Sirmondicse, § 39. The letters of Slanes, known in the law of Scotland, are per-
fectly similar to these bonds of security. By the letters of Slanes, the heirs and rela-
tions of a person who had been murdered, bound themselves, in consideration of an
assytliment, or composition paid to them, to forgive, " pass over, and for ever forget,
and in obUvion inter, all rancour, malice, revenge, prejudice grudge, and resentment

2 8

C26 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

that they have or may conceive against the aggressor or his posterity, for the crir.ie
which he had committed, and discharge him of all action, civil or criminal, against him
or his estate, for now and ever." System of Stiles by Dallas of St. Martin's, p. 862.
In the ancient form of letters of Slanes, the private party not only forgives and forgets,
but pardons and grants remission of the crime. This practice, Dallas, reasoning accord-
ing to the principles of his own age, considers as an encroachment on the rights of
sovereignty, as none, says he, could pardon a criminal but the king. Ibid. But in-
early and rude times, the prosecution, the punishment, and the pardon of criminals, were
all deeds of the private person who was injured. Madox has published two writs, one
in the reign of Edward I^, the other in the reign of Edward III., by which private
persons grant a release or pardon of all trespasses, felonies, robberies, and nmrders
committed. Formul. Anglican. No. 702, 705. In the last of these instruments, some
regard seems to be paid to the rights of the sovereign, for the pardon is granted en qiiani
que en nous est. Even after the autliority of the magistrate was interposed in punishing
crimes, the punishment of criminals is long considered chiefly as a gratification to the
resentment of the persons who have been injured. In Persia a murderer is still deli-
vered to the relations of thfe person whom he has slain, who put him to death with their
own hands. If they refuse to accept of a sum of money as a compensation, the sove-
reign, absolute as he is, cannot pardon the murderer. Voyages de Chardin, iii. p. 417,
edit. 1735, 4to. Voyages de Tavernier, liv. v. c. 5, IQ. Among the Arabians, thougli
one of the first polished people in the East, the same custom still subsists. Description
de I'Arabie par M. Niebuhr, p. 28. By a law in the kingdom of Aragon, as kite as the
year 1564, the punishment of one condemned to death cannot be mitigated but by con-
sent of the parties who have been injured* Fueros y Observancias del Eevno de Aragon,
p. 204, 6.

If, after all the engagements to cease from enmity which I have mentioned, any person
renewed hostilities, and was guilty of any violence, either towards the person from whom
he had received a composition^ or towards his relations and heirs, this was deemed a
most heinous crime, and punished with extraordinary rigour. It was an act of direct
rebellion against the authority of the magistrate, and was repressed by the interposition
of all his power. Leg. Longob. lib. i. tit. 9, § 8, p. 34. Capit. vol. i. p. 371, § 22. Thus
the avenging of injuries was taken out of private hands, a legal composition was esta-
blished, and peace and amity were restored under the inspection and by the authority of
a judge. It is evident that at the time when the barbarians settled in tlie provinces
of the Roman empire, they had fixed judges established among them with compulsive
authority. Persons vested with this character are mentioned by the earliest historians.
Du Cange, voc. Judices. The right of territorial jurisdiction was not altogether an usur-
pation of the feudal barons, or an invasion of the prerogative of the sovereign. There is
good x-eason to believe, that the powerful leaders, who seized different districts of the
countries which they conquered, and kept possession of them as allodial property, as-
sumed from the beginning the right of jurisdiction, and exercised it within their own
territories. This jurisdiction was supreme, and extended to all causes. The clearest
proofs of this are produced by ^L Bouquet, Le Droit publique de France ^clairci, &c.
tom. i. p. 206, &c. The privilege of judging his own vassals, appears to have been ori-
ginally a right inherent in every baron who held a fief. As tar back as the archives of
iiations can conduct us with any certainty, we find the jurisdiction and fief united. One
of the earliest charters to a layman which I have met with is that of Ludovicus Pius,
A.T>. 814; and it contains the right of territorial jurisdiction in the most express and
extensive terms. Capitul. vol. ii. p^ 1405. There are many charters to churches and
monasteries of a more early date, containing grants of similar jurisdiction, and prohibiting
any royal judge to enter the territories of those churches or monasteries, or to perform
any act of judicial authority there. Bouquet, Recueil des Hist. tom. iv. pp. 628, 631,
633 j tom. V. pp. 703, 710, 752, 762. Muratori has published many very ancient char-
ters containing the same immunities* Antiq. Ital. Dissert. Ixx. In most of these deeds,
the royal judge is prohibited from exacting the ^freda due to the possessor of territorial
jurisdiction, which shows that they constituted a valuable part of the revenue of each
superior lord at that juncture. The expense of obtaining a sentence in a court of justice
during the middle ages was so considerable, that this circumstance alone was sufhcient
to render men unwilling to decide any contest in judicial form. It appears frop a
charter in the thirteenth century, that the baron who had the right of justice received

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 627

th« fifth part of the vahie of every subject, the property of wliich was tried and deter-
mined in his court. If, after tlie commencement of a lawsuit, tlie parties terminateil
the contest in an amicable mannor, or by arbitration, tliey were, nevertheless, bound
to pay the fifth part of the subject contested to tlie court before which the suit had
been brought. Hist, de Daupliine', Geneve, 1722, torn. i. p. 22. Similar to this is a
regulation in the charter of liberty p-anted to the town of Friburg, a.d. 1120. If
two of the citizens shall quarrel, and if one of them shall complain to the superior lord
or to his judge, and after commencing the suit shall be privately reconciled to lii;s adver-
sary, the judge, if he does not approve of this reconciliation, may compel him to go on
with his lawsuit, and all who were present at the reconciliation shall foifoit the favour
of the superior lord. Historia Zaringo Badensis. Auctor. Jo. Dan. Schoepflinus. Carolsr.
17G5, 4to. vol. V. p. 55.

What was the extent of that jurisdiction which those who held fiefs possessed
originally, we cannot now determine with certainty. It is evident that, during the dis-
orders which prevailed in every kingdom of Europe, the great vassals took advantage of
the feebleness of their monarchs, and enlarged their jurisdictions to the utmost. As
early as the tenth centur}', the more powerful barons had usurped the right of deciding
all causes, whether civil or criminal. They had acquired the high justice as well as
the low. Establ. de St. Louis, liv. i. c. 24, 25. Their sentences were final, and there
lay no appeal from them to any superior court. Several striking instances of this are
collected by Brussel. Traite des Fiefs, Uv. iii. c. 11, 12, 13. Not satisfied with this,
the more potent barons got their territories created into regalities, with almost every
royal prerogative and jurisdiction. Instances of these were frequent in France. Brass.
Ibid. In Scotland, where the power of the feudal nobles became exorbitant, they were
very numerous. Historical Law Tracts, vol. i. tract vi. Even in England, though the
authority of the Norman kings circumscribed the jurisdiction of the barons within more
narrow limits than in any other feudal kingdom, several counties palatine were erected,
into which the king's judges could not enter, and no writ could come in the king's name,
until it received the seal of the county palatine. Spelman. Gloss, voc. Comites Palatini;
Blackstone's Commentaries on the Laws of England, vol. iii. p. 78. These lords of regali-
ties had a right to claim or rescue their vassals from the king's judges, if they assumed
any jurisdiction over them. Brussel, ubi supra. In the law of Scotland, this privilege
was termed the right of repledging ; and tlie frequency of it not only interrupted the
course of justice, but gave rise to gi-eat disorders in the exercise of it. Hist. Law
Tracts, ibid. The jurisdiction of the counties palatine seems to have been productive of
like inconveniences in England.

The remedies provided by princes against the bad efiects of these usurpations of the
nobles, or inconsiderable grants of the crown, were various, and gradually applied. Un-
der Charlemagne and his immediate descendants, the regal prerogative still retained great
vigour, and the duces, comites, and missi dominici, the former of whom were ordinary
and fixed judges, the latter extraordinary and itinerant judges, in the different pro-
vinces of their extensive dominions, exercised a jurisdiction co-ordinate with the barons
in some cases, and superior to them in others. Du Cange, voc. Diix, Comites, et Missi.
Murat. Antiq. Dissert, viii. et ix. But under the feeble race of monarchs who suc-
ceeded them, the authority of the royal judges declined, and the barons acquii-ed that
unlimited jurisdiction which has been described. Louis VI. of France attempted to revive
the function oi the missi dominici under the title of Juges des exempts, but the barons
were become too powerful to bear such an encroachment on their jurisdiction, and he was
obliged to desist from employing them. Hainault, Abr^gd Chron. tom. ii. p. 730. His
successor (as has been observed) had recourse to expedients less alarming. The appeal
de defaute de droit, or on account of the refusal of justice, was the first which was
attended with any considerable effect. According to the maxims of feudal law, if a baron
had not as many vassals as enabled him to try by their peers the parties who offered to
plead in his court, or if he delayed or refused to proceed in the trial, the cause might
be carried, by appeal, to the court of the superior lord of whom the baron held, and tried
there. De 1 Esprit des Loix, liv. xxvii. c. 28. Da Cange, voc. Defectus Justitice. The
number of peers or assessors in the courts of barons was frequently very considerable.
It appears from a criminal trial in the court of the Viscount de Lautrec, A.D. 1299, that
npwards of two hundred persons were present, and assisted in the trial, and voted in
passing judgment. Hist. De Langued. par D. D. de Vic et Vaisette, tom. iv. Preuves,

2 s 2

628 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

p. 114. But as the right of jurisdiction had heen usurped by many inconsiderable barons,
they were often unable to hold courts. Tins gave frequent occasion to such appeals, and
rendered the practice familiar. By degrees, such appeals began to be made from the
courts of the more powerful barons ; and it is evident, from a decision recorded by Brussel.
that the royal judges were willing to give countenance to any pretext for them. Traite
des Fiefs, tom. i. pp 235, 261. This species of appeal had less effect in abridging the
jurisdiction of the nobles, than the appeal on account of the injastice of the sentence.
When the feudal monarchs were powerful, and their judges possessed extensive au-
thority, such appeals seem to have been frequent. Capitul. vol. i. pp. 175, 180; and they
were made in a manner suitable to the rudeness of a simple age. The persons aggrieved
resorted to the palace of their sovereign, and with outcries and loud noise called to him for
redress. Capitul. lib. iii. c. 59. Chronic. Lawterbergiense, ap. Mencken. Script. German,
vol. ii. p. 284, b. In the kingdom of Aragon, the appeals to the justiza, or supreme judge,
were taken in such a form as supposed the appellant to be in immediate danger of death,
or of some violent outrage; he rushed into the presence of the judge, crying with a loud
voice, Avi, Avi, Fuerza, Fnerza, thus imploring (as it were) the instant interposition
of that supreme judge in order to save him. Hier. Blanca, Comment, de Rebus Aragon.
ap. Script. Hispanic. Pistorii, vol. iii. p. 753. The abolition of the trial by combat facili-
tated the revival of appeals of this kind. The effects of the subordination which appeals
established, in introducing attention, equity, and consistency of decision, into courts of
judicature, were soon conspicuous; and almost all causes of importance were carried to
be finally determined in the king's courts. Brussel, tom. i. p. 252. Various circumstances
which contributed towards the introduction and frequency of such appeals are enume-
rated in De I'Esprit des Loix, liv. xxviii. c. 27. Nothing, however, wns of such effect as
the attention which monarchs gave to the constitution and dignity of their courts of justice.
It was the ancient custom for the feudal monarchs to preside themselves in their courts,
and to administer justice in person. Marculf. hb. i. § 25. Murat. Dissert, xxxi. Charle-
magne, whilst lie was dressing, used to call parties into his presence, and having heard
and considered the subject of litigation, gave judgment concerning it. Eginhartus, Vita
Caroli Magni, cited by Madox, Hist, of Exchequer, vol. i. p. 91. This trial and decision
of causes by the sovereigns themselves could not fail of rendering their courts respectable.
St. Louis, who encouraged to the utmost the practice of appeals, revived this ancient
custom, and administered justice in person with all the ancient simplicity. " I have often
seen the saint," says Joinville, " sit under the shade of an oak in the wood of Vincennes,
vihen all who had any complaint freely approached him. At other times he gave orders
to spread a carpet in a garden, and seating himself upon it, heard the causes that were
brought before him." Hist, de St. Louis, p. 13, edit. 1761. Princes of inferior rank,
who possessed the right of justice, sometimes dispensed it in person, and presided in their
tribunals. Two instances of this occur with respect to the dauphins of Vienne. Hist,
de Dauphine, tom. i. p. 18, tom. ii. p. 257. But as kings and princes could not decide
every cause in person, nor bring them all to be determined in the same court, they ap-
pointed haillis, with a right of jurisdiction, in different districts of their kingdom. These
possessed powers somewhat similar to those of the ancient comites. It was towards the
end of the twelfth century and beginning of the thirteenth, that this office was first insti-
tuted in France. Brussel, liv. ii. c. 35. When the king had a court established in different
quarters of his dominions, this invited his subjects to have recourse to it. It was the
private interest of the baillis, as well as an object of public policy, to extend their jurisdic-
tion. They took advantage of every defect in the rights of the barons, and of every error
in their proceedings, to remove causes out of tlieir courts, and to bring them under their
own cognisance. There was a distinction in the feudal law and an extremely ancient one,
between the high justice and the low. Capitul. 3, a.d. 812, § 4, a.d. 815, § 3. Establ.
de St. Louis, liv. i. c. 40. Many barons possessed the latter jurisdiction, who had no title
to the former. The former included the right of trying crimes of every kind, even the
highest ; the latter was confined to petty trespasses. This furnished endless pretexts for
obstructing, restraining, and reviewing the proceedings in the baron courts. Ordon. ii.

457, ^ 25, 458, § 29. A regulation of greater importance succeeded the institution

of haitlis. The king's supreme court or parliament was rendered fixed as to the place, and
constant as to the time of its meetings. In France, as well as in the other feudal kingdoms,
the king's court of justice was originally ambulatory, followed the person of the monarch,
and was held only during some of the great fe8tiv.'il», Philip Augustus, a.d. 1305,

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 629

rendered it stationary at Paris, and continued its terms durini^ the greater part of the
year. Pasquier, Recherches, Hv. ii. c. 2 et 3, &c. Ordon. torn.' i. p. 36^, § 62. He and
his successors vested extensive powers in that court; they granted the members of it
several privileges and distinctions, which it would be tedious to enumerate. Pasquier.

bid. Velly, Hist, de France, toni. vi. p. 307. Persons eminent for integrity and skill in
law were appointed judges there. Ibid. By degrees the final decision of all causes of
importance was brought into the parliament of Paris, and the other parliaments which
administered justice in the king's name, in different provinces of the kingdom. This
jurisdiction, however, the parliament of Paris acquired very slowly, and the great vassals
of the crown made violent efforts in order to obstruct the attempts of that parliament to
extend it^ authority. Towards the close of the thirteenth century, Philip the Fair was
obliged to prohibit his parliament from taking cognisance of certain appeals brought into
it from the courts of the count of Bretagne, and to recognise and respect his right of
supreme and final jurisdiction. Memoires pour servir de Preuves a I'Histoire de Bretagne
par Morice, tom. i. p. 1037, 1074. Charles VI., at the end of the following century,
was obliged to confirm the rights of the dukes of Bretagne in still more ample form.
Ibid. tom. ii. p. 580, 581. So violent was the opposition of the barons to this right of
appeal, which they considered as fatal to their privileges and power, that the authors of
the Encyclopediehave mentioned several instances in which barons put to death, or muti-
lated, such persons as ventured to appeal from the sentences pronounced in their courts,
tx) the parliament of Paris, tom. xii. Art. Parlement, p. 25.

_ The progress of jurisdiction in the other feudal kingdoms was in a great measure
similar to that which we have traced in France. In England, the territorial jurisdiction
of the barons was both ancient and extensive. Leg. Edw. Conf. No. 5 and 9. After
the Norman conquest, it became more strictly feudal; and it is evident, from facts re-
corded in the English history, as well as from the institution of counties palatine, which I
have already mentioned, that the usurpations of the nobles in England were not less bold
or extensive than those of their contemporaries on the continent. The same expedients
were employed to circumscribe or abolish those dangerous jurisdictions. William the
Conqueror established a constant court in the hall of his palace ; from whicli the four
courts now entrusted with the administration of justice in England took their rise.
Henry II. divided his kingdom into six circuits, and sent itinerant judges to hold their
courts in them at stated seasons. Blackstone's Commentaries on the laws of England,
Tol. iii. p. 57. Justices of the peace were appointed in every county by subsequent
monarchs, to whose jurisdiction the people gradually had recourse in many civil causes.
The privileges of the counties palatine were gradually limited ; with respect to some points
they were abolished ; and the administration of justice was brought into the king's courts,
or before judges of his appointment. The several steps taken for this purpose are enume-
rated in Dalrymple's History of Feudal Property, chap. vii.

In Scotland the usurpations of the nobility were more exorbitant than in any other
feudal kingdom. The progress of their encroachments, and the methods taken by the
crown to limit or abolish their territorial and independent jurisdictions, both which 1 had
occasion to consider and explain in a former work, differed very little from those of which
I have now given the detail. History of Scotland, vol. i. p. 37.

I should perplex myself and my readers in the labyrinth of German jurisprudence, if
I were to attempt to delineate the progress of jurisdiction in the empire, with a minute
accuracy. It is sufficient to observe that the authority which the aulic council and
imperial chamber now possess, took its rise from the same desire of redressing the abuses
of territorial jurisdiction, and was acquired in the same manner that the royal courts ob-
tained influence in other countries of Europe. All the important facts, with respect to
both these particulars, may be found in Phil. Datt. de Pace Publica Imperii, lib. iv. The
capital articles are pointed out in Pfeffel, Abrdgd de I'Histoire du Droit Publique d'AIle-
magne, p. 556, 581 ; and in Traite du Droit Publique de I'Empire par M. le Coq. de
Villeray. The two last treatises are of great authority, having been composed under the
eye of iL Schoepflin of Strasburg, one of the ablest public lawyers in Germany.

(24), page 29.— It is not easy to fix with precision the period at which ecclesiastics
first began to claim exemption from the civil jurisdiction. It is certain, that during the
early and purest ages of the church, they pretended to no such immunity. The authority
of the civil magistrate extended to all persons and to all causes. This fact has not only

630 PEOors Ai/u illustrations.

been clearly established by protestant authors, but is admitted by many Roman Catholics
of eminence, and particularly by the writers in defence of the liberties of the Gallican
chin-ch. There are several original papers published by Muratori, which show that, in
the ninth and tenth centuries, causes of the c;reate.st importance relatino; to ecclesiastics
were still determined by civil judges. Antiq. Ital. vol. v. dissert. Ixx. Proofs of this are
produced likewise by M, Houard, Anciennes Loix des Fran9ois, &c., vol. i, p. 209. Eccle-
siastics did not shake off all at once their subjection to civil courts. This privilege, like
their other usurpations, was acquired slowly, and step by step. This exemption seems
at first to have been merely an act of complaisance, flowing from veneration for their
charactei*. Thus from a charter of Charlemagne in favour of the church of Mans,
A.D. 796, to which M. I'Abbd de Foy refers in his Notice de Diplomas, torn. i. p. 201, that
monarch directs his judges, if any difference should arise between the administrators of
the revenues of that church and any person whatever, not to summon the administrators
to appear in "mallo pubhco;" but, first of all, to meet with them, and to endeavour to
accommodate the difference in an amicable manner. This indulgence was in process of
time improved into a legal exemption; which was founded on the same superstitious
respect of the laity for the clerical character and function. A remarkable instance of this
occurs in a charter of Frederic Barbarossa, a.d. 1172, to the monastery of Altenburg.
He grants them "judicium non tantum sanguinolentis plag«, sed vitiB et mortis;" he
prohibits any of the royal judges from disturbing their jurisdiction ; and the reason which
he gives for this ample concession is, " nam quorum, ex Dei gratia, ratione divlni
ministerii onus leve est, et jugum suave ; nos penitus nolumus ilios oppressionis con-
tumelia, vel manu laica, fatigari." Mencken, Script. Rer. Germ., vol. iii. p. 1067.

It is not necessary for illustrating what is contained in the text, that I should describe
the manner in which the code of the canon law was compiled, or show that the doc-
trines in it most favourable to the power of the clergy, are founded on ignorance, or
supported by fraud and forgery. The reader will find a full account of these in Gerard,
van Mastriciit, Historia Juris Ecclesiastici, and in Science du Gouvernement, par M. Real,
torn. vii. c. 1, et 3, § 2, 3, &c. The history of the progress and extent of ecclesiastical
jurisdiction, with an account of the arts which the clergy employed in order to draw
causes of every kind into the spiritual courts, is no less curious, and would throw great
light upon many of the customs and institutions of the dark ages ; but it is likewise
foreign from the present subject. Du Cange, in his glossary, voc. Curia Christianitatia^
lias collected most of the causes with respect to which the clergy arrogated an exclusive
jurisdiction, and refers to the authors, or original papers, which confirm his observations.
Giannone, in his Civil History of Naples, lib. xix. § 3, has ranged these under proper heads,
and scrutinizes the pretensions of the church with liis usual boldness and discernment.
M. Fleury observes, that the clergy multiplied the pretexts for extending the autliority
of the spiritual courts with so much boldness, that it was soon in their power to with-
draw almost every person and every cause from the jurisdiction of the civil magistrate.
Hist. Eccles. tom. xix. Disc. Prdlim. 16. But how ill founded soever the jurisdiction of
the clergy may have been, or whatever might be the abuses to which their manner of
exercising it gave rise, the principles and forms of their jurisprudence were far more
perfect than that which was known in the civil courts. It seems to be certain, that
ecclesiastics never submitted, during any period in the middle ages, to the laws contained
in the codes of the bai-barous nations, but were governed entirely by the Roman law.
They regulated all their transactions by such of its maxims as were preserved by
tradition, or were contained in the Theodosian code, and other books extant among them.
This we learn from a custom which prevailed universally in those ages. Every person
was permitted to choose among the various codes of laws then in force, that to which he
was willing to conform. In any transaction of importance, it was usual for the persons
contracting to mention the law to which they submitted, that it miglit be known how
any controversy that should arise between them was to be decided. Innumerable proofs
of this occur in the charters of the middle ages. But the clergy considered it as such a
valuable privilege of their order to be governed by the Roman law, that when any person
entered into holy orders, it was usual for him to renounce the code of laws to which he
had been formerly subject, and to declare that he now submitted to the Roman law.
" Constat me Johannem clericum, tilium quondam Verandi, qui professus sum, ex nation©
mea, lege vivere Longobardorum, sed tarnen, pro honore ecclesiastico, lege nunc videor
vivere Romaua." Cliarta, A.D. 1072. " Farulfus presbyter qui professus sum, mora

PUOOPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. &31

Bacerdotii mei, Icfje vivere Romana." Cliarta, a.d. 1075. Mupatori, Antichita Estensi,
vol i. p. 78. See likewise Houard, Anciennes Loix des Fran9ois, &,c. vol. i. p. 203.

The code of the canon huv berran to be compiled early in the ninth century. M^m.
de I'Acad. des Inscript. torn, xviii. pp. 346, &c. It was above two centuries after that
before any collection was made of those customs which were the rule of judgments in the
courts of the barons. Spiritual judges decided, of course, according to written and known
hiws : Liy judges, left without any fixed guide, were directed by loose traditionary
customs. iJut, besides this general advantage of the canon law, its forms and principles
were more consonant to reason, and more favourable to the equitable decision of every
point in controversy, than those which prevailed in lay courts. It appears from Notes
21 and 23 concerning private wars, and the trial by combat, that the whole spirit of eccle-
siastical jurisprudence was adverse to those sanguinary customs which were destructive
of justice ; and the whole force of ecclesiastical authority was exerted to abolish them,
and to substitute trials by law and evidence in their room. Almost all the forms in lay
courts which contribute to estabhsh, and continue to preserve order in judicial proceed-
ings, are borrowed from the canon law. Fleury, Instit. du Droit Canon, part iii. c. 6,
p. 52. St. Louis, in his Kstablissemens, confirms many of his new regulations concerning
property and the administration of justice, by the authority of the canon law, from which
Le borrowed them. Thus, for instance, the first hint of attaching moveables for the
recovery of a debt, was taken from the canon law. Estab. liv. ii. c. 21, et 40. And
likewise the cessio bonorum, by a person who was insolvent. Ibid. In the same manner
he established new regulations with respect to the effects of persons dying intestate, liv. i.
c. 89. These and many other salutary regulations the canonists had borrowed from the
Roman law. Many other examples might be produced of more perfect jurisprudence in
the canon law than was known in lay courts. For that reason, it was deemed a high
privilege to be subject to ecclesiastical jurisdiction. Among the many immunities, by
which men were allured to engage in the dangerous expeditions for the recovery of the
Holy Land, one of the most considerable was the declaring such as took the cross to be
subject only to the spiritual courts, and to the rules of decision observed in them. See
Note 13, and Du Cange, voc. Qnicis Privilegia.

(25), page 30. — The rapidity with which the knowledge and study of the Roman law
spread over Europe is amazing. The copy of the Pandects was found at Amalfi, a.d.
1137. Irnerius opened a college of civil law at Bologna a few years after. Giann. Hist,
book xi. c. 2. It began to be taught as a part of academical learning in different parts of
France before the middle of the century. Vaccarius gave lectures on the civil law at
Oxford, as early as the year 1147. A regular system of feudal law, formed plainly in
imitation of the Roman code, was composed by two Mlanese lawyers about the year 1150.
Gratian published the code of canon law, with large additions and emendations, about the
same time. The earliest collection of those customs, which served as the rules of decision
in the courts of justice, is the Assises de Jerusalem. They were compiled, as the pre-
amble informs us, in the year 1099, and are called "Jus Consuetudinarium quo
regebatur Regnum Orientale." Willerra. Tyr. lib. xix. c. 2. But peculiar circumstances
gave occasion to this early compilation. The victorious crusaders settled as a colony in
a foreign country, and adventurers from all the different nations of Europe composed this
new society. It was necessary on that account to ascertain the laws and customs which
were to regulate the transactions of business, and the administration of justice among
them. But in no country of Europe was there, at that time, any collection of customs,
aior had any attempt been made to render law fixed. The first undertaking of that kind
~ by Glanville, lord chief justice of England, in his Tractatus de Legibuset Consue-
linibus Angliije, composed about the year 1181. The Regiam Majestatem in Scotland,
ribed to David I., seems to be an imitation, and a servile one, of Glanville. Several
Scottish antiquarians, under the influence of that pious credulity which disposes men to
assent, without hesitation, to whatever they deem for the honour of their native country,
contend zealously that the Regiam Majestatem is a production prior to the treatise of
Glanville ; and have brought themselves to believe, that a nation, in a superior state of
improvement, borrowed its laws and institutions from one considerably less advanced in
its political progi-ess. The internal evidence (were it my province to examine it) by
which this theory might be refuted, is, in my opinion, decisive. The external circum-
ces which have seduced Scottish authors into this mistake, have been explained with

j^aior

itf^

632 PROOPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

SO much precision and candour by Sir David Dalrymple, in his examination of some of the
arguments for the high antiquity of Regiam Majestatem, Edin. 1769, 4to., that it is to be
hoped the controversy will not be again revived. Pierre de Fontaines, who tells us that
he was the first who had attempted such a work in France, composed his Conseil, which
contains an account of the customs of the country of Vermandois, in the reign of St-
Louis, which began a.d. 122G. Beaumanoir, the author of the Coustumes de Beauvoisis^
lived about the same time. The Establissemens of St. Louis, containing a large col-
lection of the customs which prevailed within the royal domains, were published by the'
authority of that monarch. As soon as men became acquainted with the advantages of
having written customs and laws, to which they could have recourse on every occasion,,
the practice of collecting them became common. Charles VII. of France, by an ordinance
A.D. 1453, appointed the customary laws in every province of France to be collected and
arranged. Velley et Villaret, Histoire, tom. xvi. p. 113.

His successor, Louis XL, renewed the injunction. But this salutary undertaking
hath never been fully executed, and the jurisprudence of the French nation remain*
more obscure and uncertain than it would have been if these prudent regulations of their
monarchs had taken effect. A mode of judicial determination was established in th&
middle ages, which affords the clearest proof that judges, while they had no other rule to-
direct their decrees but unwritten and traditionary customs, were often at a loss how tO'
find out the facts and principles, according to which they were bound to decide. Tiiey
were obliged, in dubious cases, to call a certain number of old men, and to lay the case
before them, that they might inform them what was the practice or custom with regard
to the point. This was called enqueste par iourbe. Du Cange, voc, Turba. The effects
of the revival of the Roman jurisprudence have been explained by M. de Montesquieu,.
liv. xxviii. c. 42, and by Mr. Hume, Hist, of England, vol. ii. p. 441. I have adopted
many of their ideas. Who can pretend to review any subject which such writers have-
considered, without receiving from them light and information ? At the same time;.
I am convinced, that the knowledge of the Roman law was not so entirely lost in Europe
during the middle ages as is commonly believed. My subject does not require me to
examine this point. Many striking facts with regard to it are collected by DonatO'
Antonio d'Asti, Dell' Uso e Autorita della ragione civile nolle provincie dell' Imperio
Occidentale. Nap. 1751, 2 vols. 8vo.

That the civil law is intimately connected with the municipal jurisprudence in several
countries of Europe, is a fact so well known, that it needs no illustration. Even in
England, where the common law is supposed to form a system perfectly distinct from the
Roman code, and although such as apply in that country to the study of the common law
boast of this distinction with some degree of affectation, it is evident that many of the
ideas and maxims of the civil law are incorporated into the English jurisprudence. This
is well illustrated by the ingenious and learned author of Observations on the Statutes^
chiefly the more ancient, 3d edit. pp. 76, &c.

(26),p«5'e 31. — The whole history of the middle ages makes it evident that war was-
the sole profession of gentlemen, and almost the only object attended to in their education.
Even after some change in manners began to take place, and the civil arts of life had
acquired some reputation, the ancient ideas with respect to the accomplishments neces-
sary for a person of noble birth, continued long in force. In tlie Memoires de Fleuranges^
pp. 9, &c., we have an account of the youthful exercises and occupations of Francis I.,
and they were altogether martial and athletic. That father of letters owed his relish for
them, not to education, but to his own good sense and good taste. The manners of the
superior order of ecclesiastics during the middle ages furnish the strongest proof that, ia
some instances, the distinction of professions was not completely ascertained in Europe.
The functions and character of the clergy are obviously very different from those of
laymen ; and among the inferior orders of churchmen this constituted a distinct character
separate from that of other citizens. But the dignified ecclesiastics, who were frequently
of noble birth, were above such a distinction; they retained the idea of what belonged to
them as gentlemen, and in spite of tlie decrees of popes, or the canons of councils, they
bore arms, led their vassals to the field, and fought at their head in battle. Among
them the priesthood was scarcely a separate profession ; the military accomplishments-
which they thought essential to them as gentlemen, were cultivated; the theological
science, and pacific virtues aaitable to their spiritual function, were neglected ausi

TBOOrS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 633

As soon as the science of law became a laborious study, and the practice of it a
separate profession, sucli persons as rose to eminence in it obtained honours wliich had
formerly been appropriated to soldiers. Kniglitliood was the most illustrious mark of
distinction during several ages, and conferred privileges to winch rank or birth alone
•were not entitled. To this high dignity persons eminent for their knowledge of law were
advanced, and were thereby placed on a level with those whom their military talents had
rendered conspicuous. Milts justitice, viiles lilerattts, became common titles. ^Mattliew
Paris mentions such knights as early as A.D. 1251. If a judge attained a certain rank
in the courts of justice, that alone gave him a right to the honour of knigluhood.
Pasquier, Recherches, liv. xi. c. 16, p. 130. Dissertations Historiqiies sur la Clievalerio
p<ir Honore de Sainte Marie, pp. 16-1, &c. A profession that led to offices, which
ennobled the persons who held them, gi*ew into credit, and the people of Europe became
accustomed to see men rise to eminence by civil as well as military talents.

(27), page 32. — The chief intention of these notes was to bring at once under the-
view of my readers such facts and circumstances as tend to illustrate or confirm what
is contained in that part of the history to which they refer. When these lay scattered
in many different authors, and were taken from books not generally known, or which
many of my readers might tind it disagreeable to consult, I thought it would be of ad-
vantage to collect them together. But when everything necessary for the proof or illus-
tration of my narrative or reasoning may be found in any one book which is generally-
known, or deserves to be so, I shall satisfy myself with referring to it. This is the case
with respect to chivalry. Almost every fact wliich I have mentioned in the text, togetlier
with many other curious and instructive particulars concerning this singular institution,
may be found in Memoires sur I'ancienne Chevalerie consider^e comme une Establis-
sement politique et mihtaire, par M. de la Curne de St. Palaye.

(28), pa^rg 34. — The subject of my inquiries does not call me to write a history of
the progress of science. The facts and obsen'ations which I have produced are sufficient
to illustrate the effects of its progress upon manners and the state of society. While
science was altogether extinct in the western parts of Europe, it was cultivated in Con-
stantinople and other parts of the Grecian empire. But the subtle genius of the Greeks
turned almost entirely to theological disputation. The Latins borrowed that spirit from
them, and many of the controversies which still occupy and divide theologians, took
their rise among the Greeks, from whom the other Europeans derived a considerable part
of their knowledge. See the testimony of ^Eneas Silvius, ap. Conringium de Antiq.
Academicis, p. 43. Histoire Litteraire de France, torn. vii. p. 113, ioc, torn. ix. p.
151, &c. Soon after the empire of the caliphs was established in the East, some illus-
trious princes arose among them, who encouraged science. But when the Arabians turned
their attention to the literature cultivated by the ancient Greeks and Romans, the chaste
and correct taste of their works of genius appeared frigid and unanimated to a people of
a more warm imaginatiou. Thougli they could not admire the poets and historians of
Greece or of Rome, they were sensible to the merit of their philosophers. The operations
of the intellect are more fixed and uniform than those of the fancy or taste. Truth makes.
an impression nearly the same in everyplace; the ideas of what is beautiful, elegant,
or sublime, vary in different climates. The Arabians, though they neglected Homer,
translated the most eminent of the Greek philosophers into their own language ; and,,
guided by their precepts and discoveries, applied themselves with great ardour to the
study of geometry, astronomy, medicine, dialectics, and metaphysics. In the three former
they made considerable and useful improvements, which have contributed not a little to.
advance those sciences to that higli degree of perfection which they have attained. In
the two latter they chose Aristotle for their guide, and refining on the subtle and distin-
guishing spirit which characterises his philosophy, they rendered it in a great degree
frivolous and unintelligible. Tlie schools established in the East for teaching and culti-
vating these sciences were in high reputation. They communicated their love of science
to their countrymen, who conquered Africa and Spain ; and the schools instituted there
were little inferior in fame to those in the East. Many of the persons who distin-
guished themselves by their proficiency in science during the twelfth and thirteenth
centuries, were educated among the Arabians. Bruckerus collects many instances of
tliiiJ, Hibtor. Philos. vol. iii. p. 681. &c. Almost all the men eminent for science during

Coi mOOPS AND liii:<USTKATIONS.

several centuries, if they did not resort in person to the schools in Africa and Spain,
were instructed in the philosophy of the Arabians. The first knowledge of the Aris-
totelian philosophy in the middle ages was acquired by translations of Aristotle's works
out of the Arabic, The Arabian commentators were deemed the most skilful and au-
thentic guides in the study of his system. Oonring. Antiq. Acad. Diss. iii. p- 95, &c.
Supplem. p. 241, &c. Murat. Antiquit. Ital. vol. iii. p. 932, «S:c. From them the school-
men derived the genius and principles of their philosophy, which contributed so much to
retard the progress of true science.

TJie establishment of colleges or universities is a i-emarkable era in literary history.
The schools in cathedrals and monasteries confined themselves chiefly to the teach-
ing of grammar. Tiiere were only one or two masters employed in that office. But in
colleges, professors were appointed to teach all the different parts of science. The course
or order of education was fixed. The time that ought to be allotted to the study of
each science was ascertained. A regular form of trying the proficiency of students was
prescribed ; and academical titles and honours were conferred on such as acquitted them-
selves with approbation. A good account of the origin and nature of these is given by
Seb. Bacmeisterus, Antiquitates Eostochienses, sive, Historia Urbis et Academiae Ros-
toch. ap. Monumenta inedita Rer. Germ, per E. J. de Westphalen, vol. iii. p. 781. Lips.
1743. The first obscure mention of these academical degrees in the university of Paris
(from -which the other universities in Europe have borrowed most of their customs and,
institutions) occurs a.d. 1215. Crevier, Hist, de I'Univ. de Paris, tom. i. p. 296, &c.
They were completely establislied a.d. 1231. Ibid. 248. It is unnecessary to enumerate
the several privileges to which bachelors, masters, and doctors were entitled. One cir-
cumstance is sufficient to demonstrate the high degree of estimation in which they were
held. Doctors in the different faculties contended with knights for precedence, and the
dispute was terminated in many instances by advancing tlie former to the dignity of
knighthood, the high prerogatives of which I liave mentioned. It was even asserted that
a doctor had a right to that title without creation. Bartolus taught " doctorem actu-
aliter regentem in jure civili per decennium effici militcm ipso facto." Honore de St.
Marie, Dissert, p. 165. This was called " chevalerie de lectures," and the persons ad-
vanced to that dignity, " milites clerici." These new establishments for education,
together with the extraordinary honours conferred on learned men, greatly increased the
number of scholars. In the year 1262, there were ten thousand students in the univer-
sity of Bologna; and it appears from the history of that university, that lavv was the
only science taught in it at that time. In the year 1340 there were thirty thousand in
the university of Oxford. Speed's Chron. ap. Anderson's Chronol. Deduction of Com-
merce, vol. i. p. 172. In the same century, ten thousand persons voted in a question
agitated in the university of Paris; and as graduates alone were admitted to that privi-
lege, the number of students must have been very great. Velley, Hist, de France, tom.
xi. p. 147. There were indeed few universities in Europe at that time; but such a
number of students may nevertheless be produced as a proof of the extraordinary ardour
witii which men applied to the study of science in those ages ; it shows, likewise, that
they already began to consider other professions beside that of a soldier as honourable and
useful.

(29), page 35. — The great variety of subjects which I have endeavoured to illustrate,
and the extent of this upon which I now enter, will justify my adopting the words of
M. de Montesquieu, when he begins to treat of commerce. " The subject which follows
would require to be discussed more at large; but the nature of this work does not permit
it. I wish to glide on a tranquil stream ; but I am hurried along by a torrent."

Many proofs occur in history of the little intercourse between nations during the middle
ages. 'Towards the close of the tentii century, Count Bouchard, intending to found a
monastery at St. Maur des Fosses, near Paris, applied to an abbot of Clugny, in Bur-
gundy, famous for his sanctity, entreating him to conduct the monks thither. The lan-
guage in which he addressed that holy man is singular: he tells him, that he had under-
taken the labour of such a great journey ; that lie was fiatigued with the length of it,
therefore hoped to obtain his request, and that his journey into such a distant countiy
should not be in vain. The answer of tlie abbot is still more extraordinary. He refused
to comply with his desire, as it would be extremely fatiguing to go along with him into
a strange and unknown region. Vita Burch^rdi venerabilis Comitis, ap. Bouquet, Kec

moors A^'D ILLUSTRATIONS. C35

d?s Mist. vol. X. p. 351. Even po lato as the beginning of the twelfth century, the monks
of Fenierey, in the diocese of Sens, did not know that there was such a city as
Tournay in Flanders; and tlie monks of St. Martin of Touraay were equally unac-
quainted with the situation of Forrieres. A transaction in which they were both con-
cerned, made it necessitry for them to have some intercourse. The mutual interest of
botli monasteries prompted each to find out the situation of tlie other. After a long
seurcli, wliich is particularly described, the discovery was made by accident. Heriman-
nus Abbas, de Kestauratione St. Martini Tomacensis ap. Dacher, Spicil. vol. xii. p.
400. The ignorance of the middle ages with respect to the situation and geography
of remote countries was still more remarkable. The most ancient geographical cliart
which now remains as a monument of the state of that science in Europe during the
middle ages, is found in a manuscript of the Chronique de St. Denys. TJiere the three
parts of the earth then known are so represented, that Jerusalem is placed in tlie middle
of the !^lobe, and Alexandria appears to be as near to it as Nazareth. Mem. de I'Acad. des
Belles Lettres, torn. xvi. p. 185. There seem to have been no inns or houses of entertain.,
ment for the reception of travellers during the middle ages. Murat. Antiq. Ital. vol. iii.
p. 581, &c. This IS a proof of tlie little intercourse which took place between different na-
tions. Among people whose manners are simple, and who are seldom visited by strangers,
hospitahty is a virtue of the first rank. This duty of hospitality was so necessary in that
state of society which took place during the middle ages, that it was not considered as
one of those virtues which men may practise or not, according to the temper of their
minds, and the generosity of their hearts. Hospitality was enforced by statutes ; and
sucli as neglected this duty were liable to punishment. "Quicunque hospiti venienti
lectum aut focum negaverit, trium solidorum inlatiouo mulctetur." Leg. Burgund. tit.
xxxviii. § 1. " Si quis homini aliquo pergenti in itinere mansionem vetaverit, sexaginta
solidos componat in publico." Capitul. lib. vi. § 82. TJiis increase of the penalty, at
a period so long after that in which the laws of the Burgundians were published, and
wl-.en the state of society was much improved, is very remarkable. Other laws of the
same purport are collected by Jo. Fred. Polac. Systema Jurisprud. GermanicjE, Lips.
1733, p. 75. The laws of the Slavi were more rigorous than any that he mentions; they
ordained, that the moveables of an inhospitable person should be confiscated, and his
house burnt. They were even so solicitous for the entertainment of strangers, that they
permitted the landlord to steal for the support of his guest. " Quod noctu furatus fueris,
eras appone hospitibus." Kerum ^lecleburgicar. hb. viii, a Mat. Jo. Beehr. Lips. 1751, p.
50. In consequence of these laws, or of the state of society which made it proper to enact
them, hospitality abounded while the intercourse among men was inconsiderable^, and
secured the stranger a kind reception under every roof where he chose to take shelter.
This, too, proves clearly that the intercourse among men was rare, for as soon as tliis
became frequent, what was a pleasure became a burden, and the entertaining of travel-
lers was converted into a branch of commerce.

But the laws of the middle ages aftbrd a proof still more convincing of the small inter-
course between different nations. The genius of the feudal system, as well as the spirit of
jealousy wliich always accompanies ignorance, concurred in discouraging strangers from
settling in any new country. If a person removed from one province in a kingdom to
another, he was bound within a year and a day to acknowledge himself the vassal of
the baron on whose estate he settled ; if he neglected to do so, he became liable to a
penalty ; and if at his death he neglected to leave a certain legacy to the baron within
whose territory he had resided, all liis goods were confiscated. The hardships imposed
on foreigners settling in a country were still more intolerable. In more early times the
superior lord of any territory in which a foreigner settled niight seize his person and re-
duce him to servitude. Very striking instances of this occur in the history of the middle
ages. The cruel depredations of tho Normans in the ninth century obliged many in-
habitants of tho maritime provinces of France to fly into the interior parts of the king-
dom. But instead of being received with that humanity to which their wretched con-
dition entitled them, they were reduced to a state of servitude. Both the civil and
ecclesiastical powers found it necessary to interpose, in order to put a stop to this bar-
barous practice. Potgiesser. de Statu Servor. hb. i, c. 1, § 16. In other countries th©
laws permitted the inhabitants of tho maritime provinces to reduce such as were ship-
wrecked on their coast to servitude. Ibid. § 17. This barbarous custom prevailed m
many countries of Europe. Tlie practice of seizing the goods of persons ^rb ) had been

636 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

shipwrecked, and of confiscating them as the property of the lord on whose manor they
were thrown, seems to have been universal. De VVestphalen, Monum. inedita Rer,
Germ. vol. iv. pp. 907, &c. ; and in I)u Cange, voc. Laganum. Beehr. Ker. Mecleb.
lib. viii. p. 512. Among the ancient Welsh, three sorts of persons, a madman, a stranger,
and a leper, might be killed with impunity. Leges Hoel Dda, quoted in Observat. on the
Statutes, chiefly the more ancient, p. 22. M. de Lauri^re produces several ancient deeds
which prove that in different provinces of France strangers became the slaves of the
lord on whose lands they settled. Glossaire du Droit Fran9ois, art. Auhaine, p. 92.
Beaumanoir says, " That there are several places in France in which, if a stranger fixes
his residence for a year and a day, he becomes the slave of the lord of the manor." Const,
de Beauv. ch. 45, p. 254. As a practice so contrary to humanity could not subsist
long, the superior lords found it necessary to rest satisfied, instead of enslaving aliens,
with levying certain annual taxes upon them, or imposing upon them some extraor-
dinary duties or services. But when any stranger died, he could not convey his effects
by will ; and all his real as well as personal estate fell to the king, or to the lord of the-
barony, to the exclusion of his natural heirs. This is termed in France droit d'au-
haine. Pr^f. de Laurifere, Ordon. torn. i. p. 15. Brussel, torn. ii. p. 944. Du Cange,
voc. Albani. Pasquier, Recherches, p. 367. This practice of confiscating the effects
of strangers upon their death was very ancient. It is mentioned, though very ob-
scurely, in a law of Charlemagne, a.d. 813, Capitul. Baluz. p. 507, § 5. Not only
■Dersons who were born in a foreign country were subject to the " droit d'aubaine,"
but in some countries such as removed from one diocese to another, or from the lands
of one baron to another. Brussel, vol. ii. pp. 947, 949. It is hardly possible to conceive
any law more unfavourable to the intercourse between nations. Something similar to it,
however, may be found in the ancient laws of every kingdom in Europe. With respect
to Italy, see Murat. Ant. vol. ii. p. 14. As nations advanced in improvement, this prac-
tice was gradually abolished. It is no small disgrace to the French jurisprudence
that_ this barbarous, inhospitable custom should have so long remained among a people
so highly civilized.

The confusion and outrage which abounded under a feeble form of government, inca-
pable of framing or executing salutary laws, rendered the communication between the
different provinces of the same kingdom extremely dangerous. It appears from a letter
of Lupus, abbot of Ferrieres, in the ninth century, that the highways were so much
infested by banditti, that it was necessary for travellers to form themselves into com-
panies or caravans, that they might be safe from the assaults of robbers. Bouquet,
Recueil des Hist. vol. vii. p. 515. The numerous regulations pubhshed by Charles the
Bald in the same century, discover the frequency of these disorders ; and such acts of
violence were become so common, that by many they were hardly considered as cri-
minal. For this reason the inferior judges, called " centenarii," were required to take an
oath that they would neither commit any robbery themselves, nor protect such as were
guilty of that crime. Capitul. edit. Baluz. vol. ii. pp. 63, 68. The historians of the
ninth and tenth centuries give pathetic descriptions of these disorders. Some remarkable
passages to this purpose are collected by Mat. Jo. Beehr. Rer. Mecleb. lib. viii. p. 603.
They became so frequent and audacious, that t|)e authority of the civil magistrate was
unable to repress them. The ecclesiastical jurisdiction was called in to aid it. Councils
were held with great solemnity, the bodies of the saints were brought thither, and, in
presence of their sacred reliques, anathemas were denounced against robbers, and other
violators of the pubhc peace. Bouquet, Recueil des Hist. tom. x. pp. 360, 431, 536.
One of these forms of excommunication, issued a.d, 988, is still preserved, and is so sin-
gular, and composed with eloquence of such a peculiar kind, that it will not perhaps
be deemed unworthy of a place here. After the usual introduction, and mentioning the-
outrage which gave occasion to the anathema, it runs thus : " Obtenebrescait oculi vestri,
qui concupiverunt ; arescant manus, quse rapuerunt ; debiliteutur omnia membra, qu»
adjuverunt. Semper laboretis, nee requiem inveniatis, fructuque vestri laboris privemini.
Formidetis, et paveatis, a facie persequentis et non persequentis hostis, ut tabescendo
deficiatis. Sit portio vestra cum Juda traditore Domini, in terra mortis et tenebrarum ;
donee corda vestra ad satisfactionem plenara convertantur. — Ne cessent a vobis ha
maledictiones, scelerum vestrorum persecutrices, quamdiu permanebitis in peccato per-
vasionis. Amen, Fiat, Fiat." Bouquet, ibid. p. 517.

PROOPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 637

(30), page 37. — ^With respect to the progress of commerce, which I have described, p.
34, &c., it may be observed that the Itahan states carried on some commerce with the
cities of the Greek empire as early as the age of Charlemagne, and imported into their
own country the rich commodities of the East. Murat. Antiq. Ital. vof. ii. p. 882. In
the tenth century the Venetians had opened a trade with Alexandria in Egypt. Ibid.
The inhabitants of Amalti and Pisa had hkewise extended their trade to the same ports.
Murat. lb, pp. 884, 885. The effects of the crusades in increasing the wealth and com-
merce of the Italian states, and particularly that which they carried on with tiiC East,
I have explained, at page 12. They not only imported the Indian commodities
from the East, but established manufactures of curious fabric in their own country.
Several of these are enumerated by Muratori in his Dissertations concerning the arts
and the weaving of the middle ages. Antiq. Ital. vol. ii. pp. 349, 399. They made
great progress, particularly in the manufacture of silk, which had long been peculiar to
the eastern provmces of Asia. Silk stnifs were of such high price in ancient Kome, that
only a few persons of the first rank were able to purchase them. Under Aurelian, a.d.
270, a pound of silk was equal in value to a pound of gold. "Absit ut auro fila
pensentur. Libra enim auri tunc hbra serici fuit." Vopiscus in Aureliano. Justinian,
m the sixth century, introduced the art of rearing silk- worms into Greece, which rendered
the commodity somewhat more plentiful, though still it was of such great value as to
remain an article of luxury or magnificence, reserved only for persons of the first order,
or for public solemnities. Koger I., king of Sicily, about the year 1130, carried off a
number of artificers in the silk trade from Athens, and setthng them in Palermo,
introduced the culture of silk into his kingdom, from which it was communicated to
other parts of Italy. Giannon. Hist, of Naples, b. xi. c 7. This seems to have rendered
silk so common, that, about the middle of the fourteenth century, a thousand citizens of
Genoa appeared in one procession clad in silk robes. Sugar is likewise a production of
the East. Some plants of the sugar-cane were brought from Asia ; and the first attempt
to cultivate them in Sicily was made about the middle of the twelfth century. From
thence they were transplanted into the southern provinces of Spain. From Spain they
were carried to the Canary and Madeira isles, and at length into the New World. Lu-
dovico Guicciardini, in enumerating the goods imported into Antwerp about the year
1500, mentions the sugar which ihey received from Spain and Portugal as a considerable
article. He describes that sugar as the product of the Madeira and Canary Islands.
Descritt. de' Paesi Bassi, pp. 180, 181. The sugar-cane was introduced into the West
Indies before that time ; but the cultivation of it was not so improved or so extensive as
to furnish an article of much consequence in commerce. In the middle ages, though
sugar was not raised in such quantities, or employed for so many purposes, as to become
one of the common necessaries of life, it appears to have been a considerable article in
the commerce of the Itahan states.

These various commodities with which the Italians furnished the other nations of
Europe procured them a favourable reception in every kingdom. They were established
in France in the thirteenth century with most extensive immunities. They not only ob-
tained every indulgence favourable to their commerce, but personal rights and privileges
were gi'anted to them, which the natives of the kingdom aid not enjoy. Ordon. tom. iv.
p. 6G8. By a special proviso they were exempted from the "droit d'aubaine." Ibid. p. G70.
As the Lombards (a name frequently given to all Italian merchants in many parts of
Europe) engrossed the trade of every kingdom in which they settled, they became masters
of its cash. Money, of course, was in their hands not only a sign of the value of otlier
commodities, but became an object of commerce itself. They dealt largely as bankers.
In an ordinance, a.d. 1295, we find them styled mercatores and campsores. They carried
on this as well as otiier branches of their commerce with somewhat of that rapacious
spirit which is natural to monopolizers who are not restrained by the competition of rival
traders. An absui-d opinion, which prevailed in the middle ages, was, however, in somo
measure, the cause of their exorbitant demands, and may be pleaded in apology for them.
Trade cannot be carried on with advantage, unless the persons who lend a sum of money
are allowed a certain premium for the use of it, as a compensation for the risk which they
run in permitting another to traffic with their stock. Tiiis premium is fixed by law in alJ
commercial countries, and is called the legal interest of money. But the fathers of the
church had preposterously applied the prohibitions of usury in Scripture to the payment
of legal interest, and coudenmed it as a sin. The schoolmen, misled by Aristotle, whose

638 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

sentiments they followed implicitly, and without examination, adopted tl.o saire error
and enforced it. Blackstone's Commentaries on tlie Laws of England, vol. ii. p. 456.
Thus the Lombards found themselves engaged in a traffic wliich was everywhere deemed
criminal and odious. They were liable to punishment if detected. They were not
satisfied, therefore, with that moderate premium, wliicli they might have claimed il
their trade had been open and authorized by law. They exacted a sum proportional to tho
danger and infamy of a discovery. Accordingly, we find that it was usual for tliem to
demand twenty per cent, for the use of money in tlie thirteenth century. Murat. Antiq.
Ital. vol. i. p. 893. About the beginning of that century the countess of Flanders v,-as
obliged to borrow money in order to pay lier husband's ransom. She procured the sum re-
quisite either from Italian merchants or from Jews. The lowest interest which she paid
to them was above twenty per cent., and some of them exacted near thirty. Martene
and Durand. Thesaur. Anecdotorum, vol. i. p. 88G. In the fourteenth century, a.d. 1311,
Philip IV. fixed the interest which might be legally exacted in the fairs of Champagne at
twenty per cent. Ordon. torn. i. p. 484. The interest of money in Aragon was somewhat
lower. James L, a.d. 1242, fixed it by law at eighteen per cent. Petr. de Marca, Marca
sive Limes Hispan. App. 1433. As late as the year 1490, it appears that the interest
of money in Placentia was at the rate of forty per cent. This is the more extraordinary,
because at that time the commerce of the Italian states was become considerable. Memorie
Storiche de Piacenza, torn. viii. p. 104. Piac. 1760. It appears from Lud. Guicciar-
dini, that Charles V. had fixed the rate of interest in his dominions in the Low Countries
at twelve per cent., and at the time when he wrote, about the year 1560, it was not un-
common to exact more than that sum. He complains of this as exorbitant, and points out
its bad effects both on agriculture and commerce. Descritt. de' Paesi Bassi, p. 172. This
high interest of money is alone a proof that the profits on commerce were exorbitant ; and
that it was not carried on to great extent. — The Lombards were likewise established in
England in the thirteenth century, and a considerable street in tlie city of London still
bears their name. They enjoyed great privileges, and carried on an extensive commerce,
particularly as bcinkers. See Anderson's Chronol. Deduction, vol. i. pp. 137, 160, 204, 231,
where the statutes or other authorities which confirm this are quoted. But the chief
mart for Italian commodities was at Bruges. Navigation was then so imperfect, that to
sail from any port in the Baltic, and to return again, was a voyage too great to be per-
formed in one summer. For that reason, a magazine or storehouse, half-way between the
commercial cities in the north, and those in Italy, became necessary. Bruges was pitched
upon as the most convenient station. That choice introduced vast wealth into the Low
Countries. Bruges was at once the staple for Enghsh wool ; for the woollen and linen
manufactures ot the Netherlands ; for the naval stores and other bulky commodities of the
North ; and for the Indian commodities as well as domestic productions imported by the
Italian states. The extent of its commerce in Indian goods with Venice alone appears
from one fact. In the year 1318, five Venetian galeasses laden with Indian commodities
arrived at Bruges, in order to dispose of their cargoes at the fair. These galeasses wore
vessels of very considerable burthen. L. Guic. Descritt. de' Paesi Bassi, p. 174. Bruges
waA the greatest emporium in all Europe. Many proofs of this occur in the historians
and records of the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries. But, instead of multiplying
quotations, I shall refer my readers to Anderson, vol. i. pp. 12, 137, 213, 246, &c. The
nature of this work prevents me from entering into any more minute detail, but there
are some detached facts which give a high idea of the wealth both of the Flemish and
Italian commercial states. The duke of Brabant contracted liis daughter to the Black
Prince, son of Edward III. of England, a.d. 1339, and gave her a portion which we may-
reckon to be of equal value with three hundred thousand pounds of our present money.
Eymer's Foedera, vol. v. p. 113. John Galeazzo Visconti, duke of Milan, concluded a
treaty of marriage between his daughter and Lionel, duke ot Clarence, Edward's third
Bon, A.D. 1367, and granted her a portion equal to two hundred thousand pounds of our
present money. Rymer's Foedera, vol. vi. p. 547. Tiiese exorbitant, sums, so far exceed-
ing what was then granted by tlie most powerful monarchs, and wh ich appear extraordi-
nary even in the present age, when the wealth of Europe is so much increased, must have
arisen from the riches which flowed into those countries from their extensive and lucra-
tive commerce. The first source of wealth to the towns situated on the Baltic sea seems
to have been the herring fishery ; the shoals of herrings frequenting at that time the coasts
cf Sweden and Denmark, in the same manner as they now resort to the British coasts,

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 039

The cffbctG of this fishery are thus described by an author of the thirtcsnth century. The
Daues, says he, who were formerly clad in tlie poor garb of sailors, are now clothed in
scarlet, purple, and fine linen. For they abound with wealth flowing from their annual
fishery on the coast of Schonen : so that all nations resort to them, bringing; their gold,
fcilver, and precious commoauies, that they may purchase herrings, which the divine
bounty bestows upon them. Arnoldus Lubecensis ap. Conring. de Urbib. German. § 87.

The Hanseatic league is the most powerful commercial confederacy known hi history.
Its origin towards the close of the twelfth century, and the objects of its union, are de-
scribed by Knipschildt, Tractatus Historico- Politico- Juridicus de Juribus Civitat. Iniper.
lib. i. cap. 4. Anderson has mentioned the chief facts with respect to their commercial
~ ogress, the extent of the privileges which they obtained in different countries, their

.ccessful wars with several monarchs, as well as the spirit and zeal with which they
, .intended for those liberties and rights without which it is impo^^sible to carry on com-
merce to advantage. The vigorous efforts of a society of merchants attentive only to
commercial objects, could not fail of diffusing new and more liberal ideas concerning justice
and order in every country of Europe where they settled.

In England, the progress of commerce was extremely slow; and the causes of this are
bvious. During the Saxon Heptarchy, England, spUt into many petty kingdoms, which

re perpetually at variance with each other; exposed to the fierce incursions of the
nes, and other northern pirates; and sunk in barbarity and ignorance, was in no
. ndition to cultivate commerce, or to pursue any system of useful and salutary policy.
"VVhen a better prospect began to open, by the union of the kingdom under one monarch,
the Norman conquest took place. This occasioned such a violent shock, as well as such
a sudden and total revolution of property, that the nation did not recover from it during
several reigns. By the time that the constitution began to acquire some stability, and
the English had so incorporated with their conquerors as to become one people, the
nation engaged with no less ardour than imprudence in support of the pretensions of
their sovereigns to the crown of France, and long wasted its vigour and genius in its wild
efforts to conquer that kingdom. When by ill success, and repeated disappointments, a
period was at last put to this fatal frenzy, and the nation, beginning to enjoy some repose,
had leisure to breathe and to gather new strength, the destructive wars between the
houses of York and Lancaster broke out, and involved the kingdom in the worst of all
calamities. Thus, besides the common obstructions of commerce occasioned by the nature
of the feudal government, and the state of manners during the middle ages, its pro-
gress in England was retarded by peculiar causes. Such a succession of events adverse
to the commercial spirit was sutficient to have checked its growth, although every other
circumstance had favoured it. The English were accordingly one of the last nations m
Europe who availed themselves of those commercial advantages which were natural or
peculiar to their country. Before the reign of Edward III., all the wool of England,
except a small quantity wrought into coarse cloths for home consumption, was sold tc
the Flemings or Lombards, and manufactured by them. Though Edward, a.u. 1326,
began to allure some of the Flemish weavers to settle in England, it was long before the
English were capable of fabricating cloth for foreign markets, and the export of uu wrought
wool still continued to be the chief article of their commerce. Anderson, passim. All

irei^n commodities were brought into England by the Lombards or Hanseatic merchants.

he English ports were frequented by ships both from the north and south of Europe, and
they tamely allowed foreigners to reap all the profits arising from the supply of their
wants. The first commercial treaty of England on record, is that wuth Haquin, king of
Norway, a.d. 1217. Anders, vol. i. p. 108. But the Euglish did not venture to trade
in their own ships to the Baltic until the beginning of the fourteenth century. Ibid,
p. 151. It was after the middle of the fifteenth, before they sent any ship into the
Mediterranean. Ibid. p. 177. Kor was it long before this period that their vessels began
to visit the ports of Spain or Portugal. But though I have pointed out the slow pro-
gi-ess of the English commerce as a fact little attended to, and yet meriting considera-
tion, the concourse of foreigners to the porta of England, together with the communica-
tion among all the different countries in Europe, which went on increasing from the begin-
ning of the twelfth century, is sufficient to justify all the observations and reasonings in
the text concerniug the mnuence of commerce on the state of manners and of society.

(31), page 68.— I have not been able to discover the precise manner in which the

64:0 rnooFs and illustratioks.

justiza was appointed. Among the claims of the junta or union formed against James*!.,
A.p. 1264, this was one: that the king should not nominate any person to be justiza,
without the consent or approbation of the ricos hombres, or nobles. Zurita, Anales de
Aragon, vol. i. p. 180. But the king in his answer to their remonstrance asserts, " that
it was established by immemorial practice, and was conformable to the laws of the king-
dom, that the king, in virtue of his royal prerogative, should name the justiza." Zurita,
Ibid. p. 181. Blanca, p. G56. From another passage in Zurita, it appears that while
the Aragonese enjoyed the privilege of the union, i. e. the power of confederating against
their sovereign as often as they conceived that he had violated any of their rights and
immunities, the justiza was not only nominated by the king, but held his office during the
king's pleasure. Nor was this practice attended with any bad eifects, as the privilege of
the union was a sufficient and effectual check to any abuse of the royal prerogative.
But when the privilege of the union was abolished as dangerous to the order and peace
of society, it was agreed that the justiza should continue in office during life. Several
idngs, however, attempted to remove justizas who were obnoxious to them, and they
sometimes succeeded in the attempt. In order to guard against this encroachment,
which would have destroyed the intention of the institution, and have rendered the justiza
the dependent and tool of the crown, instead of the guardian of the people, a law was
enacted in the cortes, A.D. 1442, ordaining that the justiza should continue in office
during life, and should not be removed from it unless by the authority of the cortes.
Fueros y Observancias del Keyno de Arag. lib. i. p. 22. By former laws, the person of
the justiza had been declared sacred, and he was responsible to the cortes. Ibid. p.
15, b. Zurita and Blanca, who both published their histories while the justiza of
Aragon retained the full exercise of his privileges and jurisdiction, have neglected to ex-
plain several circumstances with regard to the office of that respectable magistrate, be-
cause they addressed their works to their countiymen, who were well acquainted with
every particular concerning the functions of a judge, to whom they looked up as to the
guardian of their liberties. It is vain to consult the later historians of Spain, about any
point with respect to which the excellent historians whom I have named are silent. The
ancient constitution of their country was overturned, and despotism established on the
ruin of its liberties, when the writers of this and the preceding century composed their
histories, and on that account they had little curiosity to know the nature of those
institutions to which their ancestors owed the enjoyment of freedom, or they were afraid,
to describe them with much accuracy. The spirit with which Mariana, his continuator
Miniana, and Ferreras, write their histories, is very different from that of the two historians
of Aragon, from whom I have taken my account of the constitution of that kingdom.

Two circumstances concerning the justiza, besides those which I have mentioned in the
text, are worthy of observation, 1. None of the ricos hombres, or noblemen of the first
order, could be appointed justiza. He was taken out of the second class of cavalleros,
who seem to have been nearly of the same condition or rank with gentlemen or commoners
in Great Britain. Fueros y Observanc. del Reyno, &c. lib. i. p. 21, b. The reason was,
by the laws of Aragon, the ricos hombres were not subject to capital punishment ; but
as it was necessary, for the security of liberty, that the justiza should be accountable for
the manner in which he executed the high trust reposed in him, it was a powerful re-
straint upon him to know that he was liahle to be punished capitally. Blanca, pp. 657,
756. Zurita, tom. p. ii. 229. Fueros y Observanc. lib. ix. p. 182, b. 183. It appears,
too, from many passages in Zurita, that the justiza was appointed to check the domineer-
ing and oppressive spirit of the nobles, as well as to set bounds to the power of the
monarch, and therefore he was chosen from an order of citizens equally interested in
opposing both.

2. A magistrate possessed of such vast powers as the justiza, might have exercised
them in a manner pernicious to the state, if he himself had been sulyect to no control.
A constitutional remedy was on that account provided against this danger. Seventeen
persons were chosen by lot in each meeting of the cortes. These formed a tribunal, called
the court of inquisition, into the office of justiza. This court met at three stated terms
in each year. Every person had liberty of complaining to it of any iniquity or neglect of
duty in the justiza, or in the inferior judges, who acted in his name. The justiza and
his deputies were called to answer for their conduct. The members of the court passed
sentence by ballot. They might punish by degradation, confiscation of goods, or even with
death. The law which erected this court, and regulated the form of \ii orocedure, was

PROOFS AND iLiLUSTllATlONS. 64:1

enacted a.d. 1461. Zurita, Anales, iv. 102; Blanca, Comment. Rer. Aragon. p. 770.
Previous to this period, inquiry was made into the conduct of the justiza, though not
•with the same forinahty. He was, from the first institution of the office, subject to the
review of the cortes. The constant dread of such an impartial and severe inquiry into his
behaviour, was a powerful motive to the vigilant and faithful discharge of his duty. A
remarkable instance of the authority of the justiza, when opposed to that of the king,
xxicurs in the year 1386. By the constitution of Aragoii, the eldest son or heir apparent
of the crown possessed considerable power and jurisdiction in the kingdom. Fueros y
Observan. del Reyno de Arag. lib. i. p. 16. Peter IV., instigated by a second wife, at-
tempted to deprive his son of this, and enjoined his subjects to yield him no obedience.
The prince immediately applied to the justiza; "the safeguard and defence," says
Zurita, " against all violence and oppression." The justiza granted him the Jirnia de
derecho, the eflfect of which was, that, upon his giving surety to appear in judgment, he
could not be deprived of any immunity or privilege whicli he possessed, but in consequence
of a legal trial before the justiza, and of a sentence pronounced by him. This was pub-
lished throughout the kingdom ; and notwithstanding the proclamation in contradiction
to this which had been issued by the king, the prince continued in the exercise of all his
rights, and his authority was universally recognised. Zurita, Anales de Aragon, tom. iu
385.

(32), page 68. — I have been induced, by the concurring testimony of many respectable
authors, to mention this as the constitutional form of the oath of allegiance, which the
Aragonese took to their sovereigns. I must acknowledge, however, that I have not found
this singular oath in any Spanish author whom I have had an opportunity of consulting.
It is mentioned neither by Zurita, nor Blanca, nor Argensola, nor Sayas, who were all his-
toriographers appointed by the cortes of Aragon to record the transactions of the kingdom.
All these writers possess a merit which is very rare among historians. They are extremely
accurate in tracing the progress of the laws and constitution of their country. Their
silence with respect to this creates some suspicion concerning the genuineness of the oath.
But as it is mentioned by so many authors, who produce the ancient Spanish words in
which it is expressed, it is probable that they have taken it from some writer of credit,
whose works have not fallen into my hands. The spirit of the oath is perfectly agreeable
to the genius of the Aragonese constitution. Since the publication of tiie first edition, the
learned M. Totze, professor of history at Batzow, in the duchy of Mecklenburgh, has been
so good as to point out to me a Spanish author of great authority, who has published the
•words of this oath. It is Antonio Perez, a native of Aragon, secretary to Philip II. The
words of the oath are, " Nos que valemos tanto como vos, os hazemos nuestro rey y senor,
con tal que nos guardeys nuestros fueros, y libertades, y si No, No." Las Obras 7
Relaciones de Ant. Perez. 8vo. por Juan de la Planche, 1631, p. 143.

The privilege of union which I have mentioned in the preceding note, and alluded to in
the text, is indeed one of the most singular which could take place in a regular govern-
ment, and the oath that I have quoted expresses nothing more than this constitutional
privilege entitled the Aragonese to perform. If the king or his ministers violated any of
the laws or immunities of the Aragonese, and did not grant immediate redress in conse-
quence of their representations and remonstrances, the nobles of the first rank, or ricos
hombres de natura, y de mesnada, the equestrian order, or the nobility of the second class,
callel hidalgos y in/anciones, together with the magistrates of cities, might, either in the
cortes, or in a voluntary assembly, join in union, and binding themselves by mutual oaths
and the exchange of hostages to be faithful to each other, they might require the king,
in tlie name and by the authority of this body corporate, to grant them redress. If the
king refused to comply with their request, or took arms in order to oppose them, they
might, in virtue of the privilege of union, instantly withdraw their allegiance from the
king, refuse to acknowledge him as their sovereign, and proceed to elect another monarch;
nor did they incur any guilt, or become liable to any prosecution on that account. Blanca,
Com. Rer. Arag. pp. 661, 669. This union did not resemble the confideracies in other
feudal kingdoms. It was a constitutional association, in which legal privileges were vested ;
which issued its mandates under a common seal, and proceeded in all its operations by-
regular and ascertained forms. Tiiis dangerous right was not only claimed, but exercised.
In the year 1287, the Aragonese formed a union in opposition to Alfonso III., and obliged
that king, not only to comply with their demands, but to ratify a privilege so fatal to the

2 T

642 PROOPS AND ILLUSXB.ATIONS.

power of. the crown. Zurita, Anales, torn. i. p. 322. In the year 1347, a anion was
formed against Peter IV. livith equal success, and a new ratification of the privilege was
extorted. Zurita, torn. ii. p. 202. But soon after, the king having defeated the leaders
of the union in oartle, the privilege of union was finally abrogated in the cortes, and all
the laws or records which contained any confirmation of it were cancelled or destroyed.
The king, in presence of the cortes, called for the act whereby he had ratified the union,
and having wounded his hand with his poniard, he held it above the record, " that privilege
(says he) which has been so fatal to the kingdom, and so injurious to royalty, should be
effaced with the blood of a king." Zurita, tom. ii. p. 229. The law abolishing the union
is published. Fueros y Observanc. lib. ix. p. 178. From that period, the justiza became
the constitutional guardian of public hberty, and his power and jurisdiction occasioned
none of those violent convulsions which the tumultuary privilege of the union was apt to
produce. The constitution of Aragon, however, still remamed extremely free. One source
of this liberty arose from the early admission of the representatives of cities into the cortes.
It seems probable from Zurita, that burgesses were constituent members of the cortes from
its first institution. He mentions a meeting of cortes, a.d. 1133, in which the procuradores
de las ciudades y villas were present. Tom. i. p. 51. This is the constitutional language
in which their presence is declared in the cortes, after the journals of that court were
regularly kept. It is probable, that an historian so accurate as Zurita would not have
used these words if he had not taken them from some authentic record. It was more
than a century after this period before the representatives of cities formed a constituent
part in the supreme assemblies of the other European nations. The free spirit of the
Aragonese government is conspicuous in many particulars. The cortes not only opposed
the attempts of their kings to increase their revenue, or to extend their prerogative, but
they claimed rights and exercised powers which will appear extraordinary even in a
country accustomed to the enjoyment of liberty. In the year 1286, the cortes claimed
the privilege of naming the members of the king's council, and the officers of his house-
hold, and they seemed to have obtained it for some time. Zurita, torn. i. pp. 303, 307,
It was the privilege of the cortes to name the officers who commanded the troops raised
by their authority. This seems to be evident from a passage in Zurita. When the cortes,
in the year 1503, raised a body of troops to be employed in Italy, it passed an act em-
powering the king to name the officers who should command them, Zurita, tom. ▼.
p. 274 ; which plainly implies, that without this warrant it did not belong to him in virtue
of his prerogative. In the Fueros y Observancias del Reyno de Aragon, two general
declarations of the rights and privileges of the Aragonese are published ; the one in the
reign of Pedro I., a.d. 1283, and the other in that of James II., a.d. 1325. They are
of such a length, that I cannot insert them ; but it is evident from these, that not only
the privileges of the nobility, but the rights of the people, personal as well as political,
were, at that period, more extensive and better understood than in any kingdom in
Europe. Lib. i. pp. 7, 9. The oath by which the king bound himself to observe those
rights and liberties of the people, was very solemn. Ibid. p. 14, b, and p. 15. The cortes
of Aragon discovered not only the jealousy and vigilance which are peculiar to free states,
in guarding the essential parts of the constitution, but they were scrupulously attentive
to observe the most minute forms and ceremonies to which they were accustomed.
According to the established laws and customs of Aragon, no foreigner had liberty to
enter the hall in which the cortes assembled. Ferdinand, in the year 1481, appointed
his queen, Isabella, regent of the kingdom, while he was absent during the course of the
campaign. The law required that a regent should take the oath of fidelity in presence of
the cortes; but as Isabella was a foreigner, before she could be admitted, the cortes
thought it necessary to pass an act, authorizing the serjeant-porter to open the door of
the hall, and to allow her to enter: " so attentive were they (says Zurita) to observe their
laws and forms, even such as may seem the most minute." Tom. iv. p. 313.

The Aragonese were no less solicitous to procure the personal rights of individuals,
than to maintain the freedom of the constitution ; and the spirit of their statutes with re-
spect to both was equally liberal. Two facts relative to this matter merit observation.
By an express statute in the year 1335, it was declared to be unlawful to put any native
Aragonese to the torture. If he could not be convicted by the testimony of witnesses,
he was instantly absolved. Zurita, tom. ii. p. 66. Zurita records the regulation with
the satisfaction natural to an historian, when he contemplates the humanity of his
countrymen. He compares the laws of Aragon to those of Rome, as both exempted

k

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. ^i'S

citizens and freemen from such ignoininions and cruel treatmenf, and had recour.-?o to it
only in the trial of slaves. Zurita had reason to bestow such an encomium on the laws
of his country. Torture was at that time permitted by the laws of every other nation
in Europe. Even in England, from which the mild spirit of legislation has long banished
it, torture was not, at tnat time, unknown. Observations on the Statutes, chiefly the
more ancient, &c., p. 66.

The other fact shows that the same spirit which influenced the legislature prevailed
among the people. In the year 1485, the religious zeal of Ferdinand and Isabella prompted
them to introduce the inquisition into Aragon. Though the Aragonese were no less super-
stitiously attached than the other Spaniards to the Roman Catholic faith, and no less
desirous to root out the seeds of error and of heresy which the Jews and the Moors had
scattered, yet they took arms against the inquisitors, murdered the chief inquisitor, and
long opposed the establishment of that tribunal. The reason wliich they gave for their
conduct was, that the mode of trial in the inquisition was inconsistent with liberty. The
criminal was not confronted with the witnesses, he was not acquainted with what they
deposed against him, he was subjected to torture, and the goods of persons condemned
were coniiscated. Zurita, Anales, torn. iv. p. 341.

The form of government in the kingdom of Valencia, and principality of Catalonia,
which were annexed to the crown of Aragon, was likewise extremely favourable to
liberty. The Valencians enjoyed the privilege of union in the same manner with the
Aragonese. But they had no magistrate resembling the justiza. The Catalonians were
no less jealous of their liberties than the two other nations, and no less bold in asserting
them. But it is not necessary for illustrating the following history to enter into any
further detail concerning the peculiarities in the constitution of these kingdoms.

(33), page 69. — I have searched in vain among the historians of Castile for such in-
formation as might enable me to trace the progress of laws and government in Castile,
or to explain the nature of the constitution with the same degree of accuracy wherewith
I have described the political state of Aragon. It is manifest, not only from the histo-
rians of Castile, but from its ancient laws, particularly the fuero juzgo, that its monarchs
were originally elective. Ley. pp. 2,5, 8. They were chosen by the bishops, the nobility,
and the people ; ibid. It appears, from the same venerable code of laws, that the preroga-
tive of the Castilian monarchs was extremely limited. Villaldiego, in his commentary on
the fuero juzgo, produces many facts and authorities in confirmation of both these par-
ticulars. Dr. Geddes, who was well acquainted witli Spanish literature, complains that
he could find no author who gave a distinct account of the cortes or supreme assembly of
the nation, or who described the manner in which it was held, or mentioned the precise
number of members who had a right to sit in it. He produces, however, from Gil Gonzales
d'Avila, who published a history of Henry II., the writ of summons to the town of Abula,
requuring it to choose representatives to appear in the cortes which he called to meet a d.
1390. From this we learn that prelates, dukes, marquises, the masters of the three
military orders, condes, and ricos hombres, were required to attend. These composed the
bodies of ecclesiastics and nobles, which formed two members of the legislature. The
cijies which sent members to that meeting of the cortes were forty-eight. The number
of representatives (for the cities had right to choose more or fewer according to their
respective dignity) amounted to a hundred and twenty-five. Geddes, Miscellaneous Tracts,
vol. i. p. 331. Zurita, having occasion to mention the cortes which Ferdinand held at
Toro, A.D. 1505, in order to secure for himself the government of Castile after the death
of Isabella, records, with his usual accuracy, the names of the members present, and of
the cities which they represented. From that list it appears that only eighteen cities had
deputies in this assembly. Anales de Aragon, tom. vi. p. 3. What was the occasion of
this great difference in the number of cities represented in these two meetings of the
cortes, I am unable to explain

(34), page 70 — A great part of the territory in Spain was engrossed by the nobility.
L. Marinajus Siculus, who composed his treatise De Robus Hispaniae during the reigii
of Charies V., gives a catalogue of the Spanish nobility, together with a yearly rent of
their estates. According to his account, wliich he affirms was as accurate as the nature
of the subject would admit, the sum total of the annual revenue of their lands amounted
to one million four .hundred and eighty-two thousand ducats. If we make allowance for

4x2

644 pEOors and illustrations.

the great difference in the value of money in the fifteenth century from that which it now
bears, and consider that the catalogue of Marinoaus includes only the titulados, or nobility
whose families were distinguished by some honorary title, their wealth must appear very
great. L- Marinseus, ap. Schott. Script. Hispan, vol. i. p. 323. The commons of Castile,
m their contests with the crown, which I shall hereafter relate, complain of the extensive
property of the nobility as extremely pernicious to the kingdom. In one of their mani-
festoes they assert, that from Valladolid to St. Jago in Galicia, wliich was a hundred
leagues, the crown did not possess more than three villages. All the rest belonged to the
nobility, and could be subjected to no public burden. Sandov. Vida del Einperador Carl.
v., vol. i. p- 422. It appears from the testimony of authors quoted by BovHdilla, that
these extensive possessions were bestowed upon the ricos hombres, hidalgos, and ca-
valleros, by the kings of Castile, in reward for the assistance which tiiey had received
from them in expelling the Moors. They likewise obtained by the same means a con-
siderable influence in the cities, many of which anciently depended upon the nobihty.
Politica para Corregidores. Amb. 1750, fol. vol. L pp. 440, 442.

(35), page 71. — I have been able to discover nothing certain, as I observed Note 18,
with respect to the origin of communities or free cities in Spain. It is probable that as
soon as the considerable towns were recovered from the Moors, the inhabitants who fixed
their residence in them, being persons of distinction and credit, had all the privileges of
municipal government and jurisdiction conferred upon them. Many striking proofs occur
of the splendour, wealth, and power of the Spanish cities. Hieronymus Paulus wrote a
description of Barcelona in the year 1491, and compares the dimensions of the town to
that of Naples, and the elegance of its buildings, the variety of its manufactures, and
the extent of its commerce, to Florence. Hieron. Paulus, ap. Schott, Scrip. Hisp. vol.
ii. p. 844. Marinaeus describes Toledo as a large and populous city. A great number
of its inhabitants were persons of quality and of illustrious rank. Its commerce was
great. It ca'"ied on with great activity and success the manufactures of silk and wool ;
and the number of inhabitants employed in these two branches of trade amounted nearly
to ten thousand. Marin, ubi supr. p. 308. " I know no city," says he, " that I would
prefer to Valladolid for elegance and splendour." Ibid. p. 312. We may form some esti-
mate of its populousness from the following circumstances. The citizens having taken
arms in the year 1516, in order to oppose a measure concerted by Cardinal Ximenes,
they mustered in the city, and in the territory which belonged to it, thirty thousand
fighting men. Sandov. Vida del Emper. Carl. V., tom. i. p. 81. The manufactures car-
ried on in the towns of Spain were not intended merely for home consumption, they were
exported to foreign countries, and their commerce was a considerable source of wealth tc
the inhabitants. The maritime laws of Barcelona are the foundation of mercantile juris-
prudence in modern times, as the Leges Rhodiae were among the ancients. All the com-
mercial states in Italy adopted these laws, and regulated their trade according to them.
Sandi, Storia Civile Veneziana, vol. ii. p. 865. It appears from several ordinances of
the kings of France, that the merchants of Aragon and Castile were received on the same
footing, and admitted to the same privileges with those of Italy. Ordonnances des
Roys, &c. tom. ii. p. 135, tom. iii. pp. 166, 504, 635. Cities in such a flourishing
state became a respectable part of the society, and were entitled to a considerable shaYe
in tho legislature. The magistrates of Barcelona aspired to the highest honour a Spanish
subject can enjoy, — that of being covered in the presence of their sovereign, and of being
treated as grandees of the kingdom. Origin de la Dignidad de Grande de Castilla por
Don Alonso Carillo. Madr. 1657, p. 18.

(36), page 71. — The mihtary order of St. Jago, the most honourable and opulent of
the three Spanish orders, was instituted about the year 1170. The bull of confirmation by
Alexander III. is dated a.d. 1176. At that time a considerable part of Spain still
remained under subjection to the Moors, and the whole country was much exposed to de-
predations not only of the enemy, but of banditti. It is no wonder, then, that an insti-
tution, the object of which was to oppose the enemies of the Christian faith, and tc
restrain and punish those who disturbed the public peace, should be extremely popular,
and meet with general encouragement. The wealth and power of the order became so
great, that, according to one historian, the Grand Master of St. Jago was the person in
Spain of greatest power and dignity next to the king. Ml. Anton. Nebrissensis, ap. Schott^

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

645

BE Hisp i 812. Another historian observes, that the order possessed everything in
Se that H king would most desire to obtain. Zurita, Anales, v. 22. fhe knights
took he vows of obedience, of poverty, and of conjugal chastity. By t,hc fornrier they
wete bound implicitly to obey the con>.mands of their grand "la^ter ^'^^ o^f^^^f
bring into the field a thousand men-at-arms. Ml Ant. Nebriss. p. 813. It, as we have
reason to believe, these men-at-arms were accompanied, as was usual m that age, this
S^ a formidable body of cavalry. There belonged to this order e.ghty-four com-
manderies, and two hundred priories and other benefices Dissertations sur la Cheya
krie par Hon. de St. Marie, p. 2G2. It is obvious how formidable t^ his sovereign the
command of these troops, the administration of such revenues, and the disposal of so
mTay offices, must have rendered a subject. The other two orders though inferior to
that of St. Jaffo in power and wealth, were nevertheless very considerable fraternities.
When the conquest of Granada deprived the knights of St. Jago of those enemies against
whom their zell was originally directed, superstition found out a new object, ^ defence
of which they engaged ^0 employ their courage. To their usual oath they added the
followine clause: "We do swear to believe, to mamtam, and to contend in public and in
private, that the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God, our Lady was conceived without the
So- original sin." This addition was made about the middle of the seventeenth cen-
turr Honore de St. Marie Dissertations, &c. p. 263.-Nor is such a singular engagement
peculiar to the order of St. Jago. The members of the second military order in ^pam, that
of Calatrava, equally zealous to employ their prowess m defence ot the honours of the
Blessed Virg n, have likewise professed themselves her true knights. 1 heir vow, con-
ceived in te^rm's more theologically accurate than that of St. Jago, may afFord some
amusement to an English reader.' "I vow to God, to the grand master, and to you
who here represent his person, that now, and for ever, I will_ maintain and contend, that
the Virgin Mary, Mother of God, our Lady, was conceived without original sin and never
incurred the pollution of it; but that in the moment of her happy conception, and of
the union of her soul with her body, the Divine grace prevented and preserved her from
original guit, by the merits of the passion and death of Christ, our Redeemer, her future
S foreseen in the Divine counsel, by which she was truly redeemed and by a more
nobe kind of redemption than any of the children of Adam. In the belief of this truth,
and in maintaining the honour of the most Holy Virgin, through the strengtli ot Almighty
gS, I will live and will die." Definiciones de la Orden de Calatrava, conforme al Ca-
piSo General en 1652, fol. Madr. 1748, p. 153. Though the church of Rome hath
nrudentlv avoided to give its sanction to the doctrine ot the immaculate conception, and
the two great monasti! orders of St. Dominick and St Francs have espoused opposite
opinions concerning it, the Spaniards are such ardent champions for the honour of the
Virgin that when the present king of Spain mstituted a new military order in tl e year
1771 in commemoration of the birth of his grandson, he put it under the immediate pro-
tpction of the most Holy Mary in the mystery of her immaculate conception. Constitu-
cbnes de k real y disUnguida Orden Espa/ola de Carlos III. p. 7 To undertake thr
defence of the Vi/gin Mary's honour had such a resemblance to that species o rehne<j
ga lantry, which was the original object of chivalry that the zeal with which the mill.
Sry orders bound themselves, by a solemn vow, to defend it was worthy o a true kn.g.t,
in those ages when the spirit of the institution subsisted in full vigour. But in the pre-
sent age it must excito some surprise to see the institution of an illustrious order con-
nected with a doctrine so extravagant and destituto of any foundation in Scripture.

r37^ vaae 73.— I have frequently had occasion to take notice of the defects in police
dufing the middle ages, occasioned by the feebleness of government, and the want of
prone? subordination among the different ranks of men. I have observed in a former
note that this greatly intorrupted the intercourse between nations, and even between

Zurita, Anales

different places in the same kingdom. The descriptions winch the Spanish histonans
give of the frequency of rapine, murder, and everv act of violence, in all the provinces of
Spain, are amazing, and present to us the idea of a society but little rein-'-'' ^-- ^1-
disorder and turbulence of that which has been called a state ot nature. ^
de Ara^ i 175. ^EL Ant. Nebrissen.-.is Rer. a Ferdin. Gestar. Hist. ap. bchottum ii.
849 fhoucrh the excess of these disorders rendered the institution ot the santa lier-
mai^ad necessary, great care was taken at first to avoid giving any offence or aUrm to
the nobiUty. The j^isdiction of the judges of the herraandad was expressly confaned to

64)6 PEOors and illustsations.

crimes which violated the public peace. All other offences were left to the cognizance of
the ordvnary judges. If a person was guilty of the most notorious perjury, in any trial
before a judge of the hermandad, he could not punish him, but was obliged to remit the
case to the ordinary judge of the place. Commentaria in Regias Hispan. Constitut. per
Alph. de Azevedo, pars v. pp. 223, &c. fol. Duaci, p. 1612. Notwithstanding these
restrictions, the barons were early sensible how much the establishment of the her-
mandad would encroach on their jurisdiction. In Castile some opposition was made
to the institution; but Ferdinand had the address to obtain the consent of the con-
stable to the introduction of the hermandad into that part of the kingdom where his
estate lay; and by that means, as well as the popularity of the institution, he sur-
mounted every obstacle that stood in its way. ML Ant. Nobrissen. p. 851. In Aragon
the nobles combined against it with great spirit ; and Ferdinand, though he supported it
with vigour, was obliged to make some concessions in order to reconcile them. Zurita,
Anales de Arag. iv. 356. The power and revenue of the hermandad in Castile seem to
have been very great. Ferdinand, when preparing for the war against the Moors of-
Granada, required of the hermandad to furnish him sixteen thousand beasts of burden,
together with eight thousand men to conduct them, and he obtained what he demanded.
jET. Ant. Nebriss. p. 881. The hermandad has been found to be of so much use in pre-
serving peace, and restraining or detecting crimes, that it is still continued in Spain ;
but as it is no longer necessary either for moderating the power of the nobility, or extend-
ing that of the crown, the vigour and authority of the institution diminisli gradually.

(38), page 74. — Nothing is more common among antiquaries, and there is not a more
copious source of error, than to decide concerning tlie institutions and manners of past
ages, by tlie forms and ideas which prevail in their own times. The French lawyers
in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries having found their sovereigns in possession
of absolute power, seem to think it a duty incumbent on them to maintain that such
unbounded authority belonged to the crown in every period of their monarchy. " The
government of France," says M. de Rdal, very gravely, " is purely monarchical at this
day, as it was from the beginning. Our kings were absolute originally, as they are at
present." Science du Gouvernement, torn. ii. p. 31. It is impossible, however, to con-
ceive two states of civil society more unlike to each other than that of the French nation
under Clovis, and that under Louis XV. It is evident from the codes of laws of the
various tribes which settled in Gaul and the countries adjacent to it, as well as from the
history of Gregory of Tours, and other early annalists, that among all these people the
form of government was extremely rude and simple, and that they had scarcely begun to
acquire the first rudiments of that order and police which are necessary in extensive
societies. The king or leader had the command of soldiers or companions, who followed
his standard i'rom choice, not by constraint. I have produced the clearest evidence of
this, Note 6. An event related by Gregory of Tours, lib. 4, c. 14, affords the most
striking proof of the dependence of the early French kings on the sentiments and incli-
nation of their people. Clotaire I. having marched at the head of his army, in the year
553, against the Saxons, that people, intimidated at his approach, sued for peace, and
offered to pay a large sum to the offended monarch. Clotaire was willing to close with
what they proposed. But his army insisted to be led forth to battle. The king em-
ployed all his eloquence to persuade them to accept of what the Saxons were ready
to pay. The Saxons, in order to soothe them, increased their original offer. The king
renewed his solicitations; but the army, enraged, rushed upon the king, tore liis tent in
pieces, dragged him out of it, ar.d would have slain him on the spot, if he had not con-
sented to lead them instantly against the enemy.

If the early monarchs of France possessed such limited authority, even while at the
head of their army, their prerogative during peace will be found to be still more confined.
They ascended the throne not by any hereditary right, but in consequence of the election
of their subjects. In order to avoid an unnecessary number of quotations, I refer my
readers to Hottoraanni Franco-Gallia, cap. vi. p. 47, edit. 1573, where they will find the
fullest proof of this from Gregory of Tours, Amoinu.s, and tiie most autlientic historians
of the Merovingian kings. The effect of this election was not to invest them with abso-
lute power. Whatever related to the general welfare of tlie nation was submitted to
public deliberation, and determined by tlie suffrage of the people, in the annual assem-
blio-f!, called " les champs de Mai's," and " les champs de Mai." These assemblies were

i'EOOrS AND ILLUSTEATiONS, "«'

llkh thoV were he^d Every freeman secAns to have had a right to be present m these
riimWiJ S^rberas ibid 4 133, &c. The ancient annals of tlie Franks describe the
assemblies, feoroeras, lum. vj^j x^^, vv. tlipcp wnnis' "In placito

S r.^n IJ MartU Chlotharius II. describes the business, and acknowledges the

Srwfth our nobles, concerning some affairs, and we now publish the ^onclusKjn tbat
ft maj ie to the knowledge of 111." Childeb. Decret. ap. Bouquet Recueildes Histor.
♦Jr. L T. q " We have agreed together with our vassals." Ibid. § 2. it is agreea,
S^he 'isSmily in which we^were I united." Ibid. § 4. The Salic laws, the most yene-
in tne asseraoi} 111 wuij. -n-j^^.^encc were enacted n the same manner. "Die-

toreT S?rt aTtem ekcS de plurLs *i quatuor-qui per tres »W conrementea,

fcTa "car W^ specify tha^i they were'granted with the consent ottheir vassals.
"wLThndebortus rex, una cam consensu et voluntate Francorum,' fe A.D 5o8.
B^^Let ibid 622 ''chlotharius III. una cum patribus nostrls, ep.scop.s opt.matibus,
Bouquet, iDia.oii. ^ ,„;.i.tri» " « n 664 Ibid 648. " De consensu fldehum nos-
c^terisque, pa atu nosm ^ 23?." The historians likewise describe the functions

rt^kin. r^ he nSal a^sem'blies in such terms as imply that his authority here
ot the King m lue i evervthin^r depended on the court itself. " Ipse rex (says

35S3Str^==»-T^««

S A D 6 3, how unjust soever the sentence against her may be as related by Frede-
&?t^nc?jtept^"^^^^^^^^^^^^

Sf^i^drruT/Cs^E^^^^^^^

'■•vrstp^ftrotrfnr^^H^-^r&e^

Su^ ir r: ;isr£^te"Sx:iiT& M f erk^m d

SSS:i"!r,si^;^.tSJ^^^^^^^

^JZ' hP savs "They we"e not degraded by the imposition of taxes. Ibid, c 29.
Kn the sett ^ment of the Franks in Gaul we' may conclude, that while elated with the
^or^ciov^SiSs of vtoy^ would not renounce the high-sp r.ted ideas of their ances-

Ts rXntarilrsuLit to a burden which they regarded as ^ badge of servitude.
The evidence of the earliest records and historians justities this conclusu>n M ^e ^on-
tesquTeu in the twelfth and subsequent chapters of the thirteenth book of L Esprit dea

■

64)8 PKOors and illustrations.

Loix, and M. de Mably, Observat. sur THist. de France, torn. i. p. 247, have investigate«
this fact with great attention, and have proved clearly that the property of freemen
among the Franks was not subject to any stated tax. That the state required nothing
from persons of this rank but military service at their own expense, and that they should
entertain the king in their houses when he was upon any progress through his dominions,
or his officers when sent on any public employment, furnishmg them with carriages and
horses. Monarcbs subsisted almost entirely upon the revenues of their own domains,
and upon the perquisites arising from the administration of justice, together with a few
small fines and forfeitures exacted from such as had been guilty of certain trespasses.
It is foreign from my subject to enumerate these. The reader may find them in
Observat. de M, de Mably, vol. i. p. 267.

When any extraoitiinary aid was granted by freemen to their sovereign it was purely
voluntary. In the annual assembly of March or May, it was the custom to make the
king a present of money, of horses or arms, or of some other thing of value. This was
an ancient custom, and derived from their ancestors the Germans. " Mos est civitatibus,
ultro ac viritim conferre principibus, vel armentorum, vel frugum, quod pro honore
acceptum, etiam necessitatibus subvenit." Tacit, de Mor. Germ. c. 15. These gifts, if
we may form a judgment concerning them from the general terms in which they are
mentioned by the ancient historians, were considerable, and made no small part of the
royal revenue. Many passages to this purpose are produced by M. du Cange, dissert, iv.
sur Joinville, 153, Sometimes a conquered people specified the gift which they bound
themselves to pay annually, and it was exacted as a debt if tliey failed. Annales
Metenses, ap. Du Cange, ibid, p, 155. It is probable that the first step towards taxation
was to ascertain the value of these gifts, which were originally gratuitous, and to compel
the people to pay the sum at which they were rated. Still, however, some memory of
their original was preserved, and the aids granted to monarchs in all the kingdoms of
Europe were termed benevolences or free gifts.

The kings of the second race in France were raised to the throne by the election of
the people. " Pepinus rex plus," says an author who wrote a few years after the trans-
action which he records, '' per authoritatem papae, et unctionem sancti chrismatis et
electionem omnium Francorum in regni solio sublimatus est." Clausula de Pepini Con-
secratione, ap. Bouq. Kecueil des Histor. tom. v. p. 9, At the same time, as the chief
men of the nation had transferred the crown from one family to another, an oath was
»!xacted of them, that they should maintain on the throne the family which they had
aow promoted; "ut nunquam de alterius lumbis regem in a;vo prsesumant eligere."
Ibid. p. 10. This oath the nation faithfully observed during a considerable space of time.
The posterity of Pepin kept possession of the throne ; but with respect to the manner of
dividing their dominions among their children, princes were obliged to consult the general
assembly of the nation. Thus Pepin himself, a,d. 768, appointed his two song, Charles
and Carlomannus, to reign as joint sovereigns ; but he did this, " una cum consensu
Francorum et procerum suorum seu et episcoporum," before whom he laid the matter ixx
their general assembly. Conventus apud Sanctum Dionysium, Capitular, vol. i. p. 187.
This destination the French confirmed in a subsequent assembly, which was called upon
the death of Pepin ; for, as Eginhart relates, they not only appointed them kings, but by
their authority they regulated tlie limits of their respective territories. Vita Car. Magni,
ap. Bouquet, Recueil, tom, v. p. 90. In the same manner, it was by the authority of the
supreme assemblies that any dispute which arose among the descendants of the royal
family was determined, Charlemagne recognises this important part of their jurisdic-
tion, and confirms it in his charter concerning the partition of his dominions ; for he
appoints, that, in case of any uncertainty with respect to the right of the several com-
petitors, he whom the people shall choose shall succeed to the crown. Capitular, voh i.
p. 442.

Under the second race of kings, the assemblies of the nation, distinguished by the name
of conventus, malli, placita, were regularly assembled once a year at least, and frequently
twice in the year. One of the most valuable monuments of the history of France is the
treatise of Hincmarus, archbishop of Rheims, de Ordine Palatii. He died a.d. 882, only
sixty-eight years after Charlemagne, and he relates in that short discourse the facts
which were communicated to him by Adalhardus, a minister and confidant of Charle-
magne. Fr"om him we learn that this great monarch never failed to hold the general
assembly of his subjects every year. " In quo clacito generalitas universorum majorum

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 649

tarn clericoram quam laicorum conveniebat." Hincm. Oper. edit. Sirmondi, vol. ii. c. 29,

B211. In these assemblies, matters which related to the general safety and state of the
ngdom were always discussed before they entered upon anjr private or less important
business. Ibid. c. 33, p. 213. His immediate successors imitated his example, and
transacted no affair of importance without the advice of their great council.

Under the second race of kings, the genius of the French government continued to be
in a good measure democratical. The nobles, the dignified ecclesiastics, and the great
officers of the crown, were not the only members of the national council; the people, or
the whole body of freemen, either in person or by their representatives, had a right to be
present in it. Hincmarus, in describing the manner of holding the general assemblies,
says that if the weather was favourable they met in the open air ; but if otherwise, they
had difTerent apartments allotted to them ; so that the dignified clergy were separated
from the laity, and the "comites vel hujusmodi principes sibimet honorificabiliter a
csetera multitudine segregarentur." Ibid. c. 35, p. 114. Agobardus, archbishop of Lyons,
thus describes a national council in the year 633, wherein he was present. " Qui ubique
conventus extitit ex reverendissimis episcopis, et magnificentissimis viris illustribus,
collegio quoque abbatum et comitum, promiscuasque astatis et dignitatis populo." The
ccBtera mtdtitudo of Hincmarus is the same with the populus of Agobardus, and both
describe the inferior order of freemen, the same who were afterwards known in France by
the name of the third estate, and in England by the name of commons. The people, as
•well as the members of higher dignity, were admitted to a share of the legislative power.
Thus, by a law, a.d. 803, it is ordained, "That the question shall be put to the people
with respect to every new law, and if they shall agree to it, they sliall confirm it by their
signature." Capit. vol. i. p. 394. There are two capitularia which convey to us a full
idea of the part which the people took in the administration of government. When they
felt the weight of any grievance, they had a right to petition the sovereign for redress.
One of these petitions, in which they desire that ecclesiastics might be exempted from
bearing arms, and from serving in person against the enemy, is still extant. It is
addressed to Charlemagne, a.d. 803, and expressed in such terms as could have been
Tised only by men conscious of liberty, and of the extensive privileges which they possessed.
They conclude with requiring him to grant their demand, if he wished that they should
any longer continue faithful subjects to him. That great monarch, instead of being
offended or surprised at the boldness of their petition, received it in a most gracious
manner, and signified his willingness to comply with it. But, sensible that he himself
did not possess legislative authority, he promises to lay the matter before the next general
assembly, that such things as were of common concern to all might be there considered
and established by common consent. Capitul. tom. i. pp. 405—409. As the people by
their petitions brought matters to be proposed in the general assembly, we learn from
another capitulare tiie form in which they were approved there, and enacted as laws.
The propositions were read aloud, and then the people were required to declare whether
they assented to them or not. They signified their assent by crying three times, " We
are satisfied ;" and then the capitulare was confirmed by the subscription of the monarch,
the clergy, and the chiqf men of the laity. Capitul. tom. i. p. 627, a.d. 822. It seems
probable from a capitulare of Carolus Calvus, a.d. 851, that the sovereign could not
refuse his assent to what was proposed and established by his subjects in the general
assembly. Tit. ix. § 6. Capitul. vol. ii. p. 47. It is unnecessary to multiply quotations
concerning the legislative power of the national assembly of France under the second race,
or concerning its right to determine with regard to peace and war. The uniform style of
the capitularia is an abundant confirmation of the former. The reader who desires any
further information with respect to the latter, may consult Les Origines ou 1' Ancient
Gouvernement de la France, dc. tom. iii. pp. 87, &c. What has been said with respect
to the admission of the people or their representatives into the supreme assembly merits
attention, not only in tracing the progress of the French government, but on account of
the light which it throws upon a similar question agitated in England, concernuig the
time when the commons became part of the legislative body in that kingdom.

(39), page 74. — That important change which the constitution of France underwent,
•when the legislative power was transferred from the great council of the nation to the
king, has been explained by the French antiquaries with less care than they bestow in
illustrating other events in their history. For tiiat reason, I have endeavoured with

650 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

greater attention to trace the steps which led to this memorable revolution. I shall here
add some particulars which tend to throw additional light upon it. The Leges Salicse,
the Leges Burgundionura, and other codes published by the several tribes which settled
in Gaul, were general laws extending to every person, to every province and district where
the authority of those tribes was acknowledged. But they seem to have become obsolete ;
and the reason of their falling into disuse is very obvious. Almost the whole property of
the nation was allodial when these laws were framed. But when the feudal institutions
became general, and gave rise to an infinite variety of questions peculiar to that species
of tenure, tlie ancient codes were of no use in deciding with regard to tliese, because they
could not contain regulations apphcable to cases which did not exist at the time when
they were compiled. This considerable change in the nature of property made it neces-
sary to publish the new regulations contained in the capitularia. Many of these, as is
evident from the perusal of them, were public laws extending to the whole French nation,
in the general assembly of which they were enacted. The weakness of the greater part of
the monarchs of the second race, and the disorder into which the nation was thrown by
the depredations of the Normans, encouraged the barons to usurp an independent power
formerly unknown in France, The nature and extent of that jurisdiction which they
assumed I have formerly considered. The political union of the kingdom was at an end,
its ancient constitution was dissolved, and only a feudal relation subsisted between the
king and his vassals. The regal jurisdiction extended no further than the domains of the
crown. Under the last kings of the second race, these were reduced almost to nothing.
Under the first kings of the third race, they comprehended little more than the patri-
monial estate of Hugh Capet, which he annexed to the crown. Even with this accession
they continued to be of small extent. Velly, Hist, de France, tom. ill. p. 32. Many of
the most considerable provinces in France did not at first acknowledge Hugh Capet as a
lawful monarch. There are still extant several charters, granted during the first years
of his reign, with this remarkable clause in the form of dating the charter : " Deo regnante,
rege expectante, regnante Domino nostro Jesu Christo Francis autem contra jus regnum
usurpante Ugone rege," Bouquet, Recueil, tom. x. p. 544. A monarch, whose title was
thus openly disputed, was not in a condition to assert the royal jurisdiction, or to limit
that of the barons.

All these circumstances rendered it easy for the barons to usurp the rights of royalty
within their own territories. The Capitularia became no less obsolete than the ancient
laws ; local customs were everywhere introduced, and became the sole rule by which all
civil transactions were conducted, and all causes were tried. The wonderful ignorance
which became general in France during the ninth and tenth centuries, contributed to the
introduction of customary law. Few persons, except ecclesiastics, could read ; and as it
was not in the power of such illiterate persons to have recourse to written laws, either as
their guide in business, or their rule in administering justice, the customary law, the
knowledge of which was preserved by tradition, universally prevailed.

During this period, the general assembly of the nation seems not to have been called,
nor to have once exerted its legislative authority. Local customs regulated and decided
everything. A striking proof of this occurs in tracing the progress of the French juris-
prudence. The last of the Capitularia collected by M. Baluze, was issued in the year
921, by Charles the Simple. A hundred and thirty years elapsed from that period to the
publication of the first ordinance of the kings of the third race, contained in the great
collection of M, Lauri^re; and the first ordinance, which appears to be an act of legisla-
tion extending to the whole kingdom, is thai of Philip Augustus, a.d. 1190. Ordon.
tom. i. pp. 1, 18. During that long period of two hundred and sixty-nine years, all
transactions were directed by local customs, and no addition was made to the statutory
law of France. The ordinances, previous to the reign of Philip Augustus, contain regu-
lations, the authority of which did not extend beyond the king's domains.

Various instances occur of the caution wilh which the kings of France ventured at first
to exercise legislative authority. M. I'Ab, de Mably produces an ordinance of Philip
Augustus, A.D. 1206, concerning the Jews, who in that age were in some measure the
property of the lord in whose territories they resided. But it is rather a treaty of the
king with the countess of Champagne, and the compte de Dampierre, than an act of royai
power ; and tlie regulations in it seem to be established, not so much by his authority, as
hy their consent. Observat. sur I'Hist. de France, ii. p. 355. In the same manner an
ordinance of Louis Vllf. concerning tlie Jews, a.d, 1223, is a contract between the king

Ord

IF

PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 651

and his nobles, with respect to their rnanner of treating that unhappy race of mca
Ordon. torn. i. p. 47. The Estublisaemens of St. Louis, though well adapted to serve as

neral laws to the whole kingdom, were not published as such, but only as a complete

de of customary law, to be of authority within the king's domains. The wisdom, the
equity, and the order conspicuous in that code of St. Louis, procured it a favourable re-
ception throughout the kingdom. Tiie veneration due to the virtues and good intentions
of its author, contributed not a little to reconcile the nation to that legislative authority
which the king began to assume. Soon after the reign of St. Louis, the idea of tlie king's
possessing supreme legislative power became common. If, says Beaumanoir, the king
makes any establishment specially for his own domain, the barons may nevertheless
adhere to their ancient customs ; but if the establishment be general, it shall be current
throughout the whole kingdom, and we ought to believe that such establishments are
made with mature deliberation, and for the general good. Const, de Beauvoisis, c. 48,
p. 265. Though the kings of the third race did not call the general assembly of the
nation, during the long period from Hugh Capet to Philip the Fair, yet they seem to have
consulted the bishops and barons who happened to be present in their court, with respect
to any new law which they published. Examples of this occur, Ordon. torn. i. pp. 3 et 5.
This practice seems to have continued as late as the reign of St.Louis, when the legisla-
tive authority of the crown was well established. Ordon. torn. L p. 58, a.d. 1246. This
attention paid to the barons facilitated the king's acquiring such full possession of the
legislative power, as enabled them afterwards to exercise it without observing that
formaUty.

The assemblies distinguished by the name of the states-general were first called a.d.
1302, and were held occasionally from that period to the year 1614, since which time
they have not been summoned. These were very different from the ancient assemblies of
the French nation under the kings of the first and second race. There is no point with
i-espect to which the French antiquaries are more generally agreed, than in maintaining
that the states-general had no suffrage in the passing of laws, and possessed no proper
legislative jurisdiction. The whole tenor of the French history confirms this opinion. The
form of proceeding in the states-general was this. The king addressed himself, at opening
the meeting, to the whole body assembled in one place, and laid before them the affairs
on account of which he had summoned them. Then the deputies of each of the three
orders of nobles, of clergy, and of the third estate, met apart, and prepared their calder,
or memorial, containing their answer to the propositions which had been made to them,
together with the representations which they thought proper to lay before the king.
These answers and representations were considered by the king in his council, and
generally gave rise to an ordinance. These ordinances were not addressed to the three
estates in common. Sometimes the king addressed an ordinance to each of the estates
in particular. Sometimes he mentioned the assembly of the three estates. Sometimes
mention is made only of the assembly of that estate to which the ordinance is addressed.
Sometimes no mention at all is made of the assembly of estates, which suggested the
propriety of enacting the law. Preface au torn. iii. des Ordon, p. xx.

Thus the states-general had only the privilege of advising and remonstrating ; the legis-
lative authority resided in the king alone.

(40),pa^e 76. — If the parliament of Paris be considered only as the supreme court of
justice, everything relative to its origin and jurisdiction is clear and obvious. It is the
ancient court of the king's palace, new modelled, rendered stationary, and invested with
an extensive and ascertained jurisdiction. The power of this court, while employed in
this part of its functions, is not the object of present consideration. The pretensions of
the parliament to control the exercise of the legislative authority, and its claim of a right
to interpose with respect to public affiirs, and tlie political administration of the kingdom,
lead to mquiries attended with great difficulty. As the oflBcers and members of the parlia-
ment of Paris were anciently nominated by the king, were paid by him, and on several
occasions were removed by him at pleasure (Chronic. Scandaleuse de Louis XL chez les
M^m. de Comines, torn ii. p. 51, edit, de M. Lenglet de Fresnoy), they cannot be considered
as representatives of the people, nor could they claim any share in the legislative power as
acting in their name. We must therefore search for some other source of this high privi-
lege. 1. Tlie parliament was originally composed of the most eminent persons in the
kingdom. The peers of France, ecclesiastics of the highest order, and noblemen of illus-

652 PROOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

trious birth, were members of it, to whom were added some clerks and councillors learned
in the laws. Pasquier, Recherches, pp. 44, &c. Encyclop^die, torn. xii. art. ParhmerU,
pp. 3, 5. A court thus constituted was properly a committee of the states-general of the
knigdom, and was composed of those barons and^e^e^ whom the kings of France were
accustomed to consult with regard to every act of jurisdiction or legislative authority. It
was natural, therefore, during the intervals between the meetings of the states- general,
or during those periods when that assembly was not called, to consult the parliament, to
lay matters of public concern before it, and to obtain its approbation and concurrence
before any ordinance was published, to which the people were required to conform. 2.
Under the second race of kings, every new law was reduced into proper form by the
chancellor of the kingdom, was proposed by him to the people, and, when enacted, was
committed to him to be kept among the public records, that he might give authentic
copies of it to all who should demand them. Hincm. de Ord. Palat. c. 16. Capitul. Car.
Calv. tit. xiv. § 11, tit. xxxiii. The chancellor presided in the parliament at its first in-
stitution. Encyclopedie, tom. iii. art. Chancelier, p. 88. It was, therefore, natural for
the king to continue to employ him in his ancient functions of framing, taking into his
custody, and publishing the ordinances which were issued. To an ancient copy of the
Capitularia of Charlemagne the following words are subjoined: " Anno tertio clemen-
tissiini domini nostri Caroli Augusti, sub ipso anno, hsec facta Capitula sunt, etconsignata
Stephano comiti, ut haec manifesta faceret Parisiis mallo publico, et ilia legere faceret
coram scabineis, quod ita et fecit, et omnes in uno consenserunt, quod ipsi voluissent ob-
servare usque in pos terum, etiam omnes, scabinei, episcopi, abbates, comites, manu
propria subter signaverunt." Bouquet, Recueil, tom. v. p. 663. Malltis signifies not
only the public assembly of the nation, but the court of justice held by the comes, or
missus dominicus. Scabinei were the judges, or the assessors of the judges in that court.
Here, then, seems to be a very early instance, not only of laws being published in a court
of justice, but of their being verified or confirmed by the subscription of the judges. If
this was the common practice, it naturally introduced the verifying of edicts in the par-
liament of Paris. But tliis conjecture I propose with that diffidence which I have felt in
all mv reasonings concerning the laws and institutions of foreign nations. 3. This supreme
court of justice in France was dignified with the appellation of parliament, the name by
■which the general assembly of the nation was distinguished towards the close of the
second race of kings ; and men, both in reasoning and in conduct, were wonderfully in^
fluenced by the similarity of names. The preserving the ancient names of the magis-
trates established while the republican government subsisted in Rome, enabled Augustus
and his successors to assume new powers with less observation and greater ease. The
bestowing the same name in France upon two courts, which were extremely difiierent,
contributed not a Httle to confound their jurisdictions and functions.

All these circumstances concurred in leading the kings of France to avail themselves
of the parliament of Paris, as the instrument of reconciling the people to the exercise of
legislative authority by the crown. The French, accustomed to see all new laws examined
and authorized before they were published, did not sufficiently distinguish between the
effect of performing this in the national assembly, or in a court appointed by the king.
But as that court was composed of respectable members, and who were well skilled in the
laws of their country, when any new edict received its sanction, that was sufficient to
dispose the people to submit to it.

When the practice of verifying nud. registering the royal edicts in the parliament of
Paris became common, the parliament contended that this was necessary in order to
give them legal authority. It was established as a fundamental maxim in French juris-
prudence, that no law could be published in any other manner ; that without this formality
no edict or ordinance could have any effect ; that the people were not bound to obey it,
and ought not to consider it as an edict or ordinance until it was verified in the supreme
court, after free deliberation. Roche-flavin des Parlemens de France, 4to. Gen. 1621, p.
921. The parliament, at different times, hath, with great fortitude and integrity, opposed
the will of their sovereigns ; ami, notwithstanding their repeated and peremptory requisi-
tions and commands, iiath refused to verify and publisli such edicts as it conceived to be
oppressive to the people, or subversive of the constitution of the kingdom. Roche-flavin
reckons that between the year 1562 and the year 1589, the parliament refused to verify
more than a hundred edicts of the kings. Ibid. p. 925. Many instances of the spirit
and constancy with which the parliaments of France opposed pernicious laws, and asserted

PBOOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 668

their own privileges, are enumerated by Limnaeus in his Notitisa Regni Francia;, lib. L c

^' But Uie power of the parliament to maintain and defend this privilege, bore no pro-
portion to its importance, or to the courage with which the members asserted i. When
any monarch was determined that an edict should be carried into execution, and found the
parliament i.iHesibly resolved not to verify or publish it, he could easily supply this de-
fect by the plenitude of his regal power. He repaired totlie parliament in person, he took
possession of his seat of justice, and commanded the edict to be read verihed, registered,
and published in his presence. Then, according to another maxim of i- rench law, tlie king
himself being present, neither the parliament, nor any magistrate whatever, can exercise
any authority or perform any function. "Adveniente pnncipe cessat magistratus.
Roche-flavin/ ibid. pp. 928, 929. Encyclopedic, torn. ix. Art. Lit de Justice, p. o81.
Roche-flavin' mentions several instances of kings who actually exerted this prerogative, so
fatal to the residue of the rights and liberties transmitted to the French by their an-
cestors. Pasquier produces some instances of the same kind. Rech. p. 61. Limnaeus
enumerates many other instances ; but the length to which this note has swelled prevents
me from inserting them at length, though they tend greatly to illustrate this important
article in the French history, p. 245. Thus, by an exertion of prerogative, which, though
violent, seems to be constitutional, and is justified by innumerable precedents, all the
efforts of the parliament to limit and control the king's legislative authority are rendered
ineffectual. ..,.,. - r . •

I have not attempted to explain the constitution or jurisdiction of any parliament m
France but that of Paris. All of them are formed upon the model of that most ancient
and respectable tribunal, and all my observations concernmg it will apply with full force
to. them.

(41) page 78.— The humiliating posture in which a great emperor implored absolution
is an event so singular, that the words in which Gregory himself describes it merit a place
here and convey a striking picture of the arrogance of that pontiff: " Per triduum,^ ante
portam castri, deposito omni regio cultu, miserabiliter, utpote discalceatus, et laneis m-
dutus persistens, non prius cum multo fletu apostolicae miserationis auxihum et consola-
tionem implorari destitit, quam omnes qui ibi aderant, et ad quos rumor ille pervenit, ad
tantam pietatem, et compassionis misericordiam movit, ut pro eo multis precibus et
kcrymis intercedentes, omnes quidem insoUtam nostrse mentis duritiem mirarentur;
nonnuUi vero in nobis non apostolicse sedis gravitatem, sed quasi tyrannicae feritatis crude-
litatem esse clamarunt." Epist. Gregor. ap. Memorie della Contessa Matilda da Fran.
Mar. Fiorentini. Lucca, 1756, vol. i. p. 174.

("42) page 82.— As I have endeavoured in the history to trace the various steps in the
progress of the constitution of the empire, and to explain the peculiarities in its policy
very fully, it is not necessary to add much by way of illustration. What appears to be
of any im'portance, I shall range under distinct heads. a • t

1 With respect to the power, jurisdiction, and revenue of the emperors. A very just
idea of these may be formed by attending to the view which Pfeffel gives of the rights
of the emperors at two different periods. The first at the close of the Saxon race, a.d.
1024 These, according to his enumeration, were the right of conferring all the great
ecclesiastical benefices in Germany ; of receiving the revenues of them during a vacancy ;
of mortmain, or of succeeding to the effects of ecclesiastics who died intestat^. The right
of confirming or of annulling the elections of the popes. The right of assembling councils,
and of appointing them to decide concerning the affairs of the Church. 1 ne right of con-
ferring the title of king upon their vassals. The right of granting vacant hefs. The
right of receiving the revenues of the empire, whether arising from the imperial domains,
from imposts and tolls, from gold or silver mines, from the taxes paid by the Jews or
from forfeitures. The right of governing Italy as its proper sovereigns, fhe right of
erecting free cities, and of establishing fairs in them. The right of assembhng the diets
of the empire, and of fixing the time of tlieir duration. The right of coining money, and
of conferring that privilege on the states of the empire. The right of administering both
high and low justice within the territories of the different states. Abr^g^, p. IbU. Ihe
other period is at the extinction of the emperors of the families of Luxemburg and Ba-
varia, A.D. 1437. According to the same author, the imperial prerogatives at that tune

654 PROOFS AND ILLTISTRATIOKS.

were, the right of conferrhig all dignities and titles, except the privilege of being a state
of the empire. The right of preces primaries, or of appointing once during their reign
a dignitary in each chapter or religious house. The right of granting dispensations with
respect to the age of majority. The right of erecting cities, and of conferring the pri-
vilege of coining money. The right of calling the meetings of the diet, and of presiding
in them. Abr^g^, &c. p. 507. It were easy to show that M. PfefFel is well founded ia
all these assertions, and confirm them by the testimony of the most respectable authors.
In the one period the emperors appear as mighty sovereigns with extensive prerogatives ;
in the other, as the heads of a confederacy with very limited powers.

The revenues of the emperors decreased still more than their authority. The early
emperors, and particularly those of the Saxon line, besides their great patrimonial or
hereditary territories, possessed an extensive domain both in Italy and Germany, which
belonged to them as emperors. Italy belonged to the emperors as their proper kingdom,
and the revenues which they drew from it were very considerable. The first alienations
of the imperial revenue were made in that country. The Italian cities having acquired
wealth, and aspiring at independence, purchased their liberty from different emperors, as
I have observed, Note 15. The sums which they paid, and the emperors with whom they
concluded these bargains, are mentioned by Gasp. Klockius de ^Erario, Norimb. 1671,
pp. 85, &c. Charles IV. and his son Wenceslaus dissipated all that remained of the
Italian branch of the domain. The German domain lay chiefly upon the banks of the
Rhine, and was under the government of the counts palatine. It is not easy to mark out
the boundaries, or to estimate the value, of this ancient domain, which has been so long
incorporated with the territories of different princes. Some hints with respect to it may
be found in the glossary of Speidelius, which he has entitled Speculum Juridico-Philo-
logico-Politico-Historicum Observationum, &c. Norim, 1673, vol. i. pp. 679, 1045. A
more full account of it is given by Klockius de ^Erario, p. 84. Besides this, the emperors
possessed considerable districts of land lying intermixed with the estates of the dukes and
barons. They were accustomed to visit these frequently, and drew from their vassals in
each what was sufficient to support their court during the time of their residence among
them. AnnaUstse, ap. Struv. tom. i. 611. A great part of these detached possessions
was seized by the nobles during the long interregnum, or during the wars occasioned by
the contests between the emperors and the court of Rome. At the same time that such
encroachments were made on the fixed or territorial property of the emperors, they were
robbed almost entirely of their casual revenues ; the princes and barons appropriating to
themselves taxes and duties of every kind, which had usually been paid to them. Pfeffel,
Abreg^, p. 374. The profuse and inconsiderate ambition of Charles IV. squandered
whatever remained of the imperial revenues after so many defalcations. He, in the year
1376, in order to prevail with the electors to choose his son Wenceslaus king of the Romans,
promised each of them a hundred thousand crowns. But being unable to pay so large a
sum, and eager to secure the election to his son, he alienated to the three ecclesiastical
electors, and to the count-palatine, such countries as still belonged to the imperial domain
on the banks of the Rhine, and likewise made over to them all the taxes and tolls then
levied by the emperors in that district. Trithemins, and the author of the Chronicle of
Magdeburgh, enumerate the territories and taxes which were thus alienated, and represent
this as the last and fatal blow to the imperial authority. Struv. Corp. voL i. p. 437.
Prom that period the shreds of the ancient revenues possessed by the emperors have been
so inconsiderable, that, in the opinion of Speidelius, all that they yield would be so far
from defraying the expense of supporting their household, that they would not pay the
charge of maintaining the posts established in the empire. Speidelii Speculum, &c. voL L
p. 680. These funds, inconsiderable as they were, continued to decrease. Granvelle, the
minister of Charles V., asserted in the year 1546, in presence of several of the German
princes, that his master drew no money at all from the empire. Sleid. History of the
Reformation, Lond. 1689, p. 372. The same is the case at present. Traite du Droite
Publique de I'Empire, par M. le Coq. de Villeray, p. 55. From the reign of Charles IV.,
whom Maximilian called the " pest of the empire," the emperors have depended entirely
on their hereditary dominions as the chief and almost the only source of their power, and
even of their subsistence.

2. The ancient mode of electmg the emperors, and the various changes which it under-
Vrent, require some illustration. The imperial crown was originally attained by election,
as well as those of most monarchies in Europe. An opinion long prevailed among the anti-

PROOFS AND ILLUSTKATIONS. 655

laaries and public lawyers of Germany, that the right of choosinw the emperors was
vested in the archbishops of Mentz, Cologne, and Treves, the king of Bohemia, the duke
j>f Saxony, the marquis of Brandeuburgh, and the count-palatine of the Rhine, by an edict
«f Otho III., confirmed by Gregory V. about the year 996. But the whole tenor of history
contradicts this opinion. It appears that, from the earliest period in the history of
Germany, the person who was to reign over all was elected by tne suffrage of all Ihus
Conrad I. was elected by all tlie people of tlie Franks, say some annalists ; by all the
princes and chief men, say others ; by all the nations, say others. See their words, Struv.
Corp. 211. Conringius de German. Imper. Kepub. Acroamata Sex. Ebroduni, 1654,
p. 103. In the year 1024, posterior to the supposed regulations of Otho III., Conrad II.
was elected by all the chief men, and his election was approved and confirmed by the
people, Struv. Corp. 284. At the election of Lotharius IL, A.D. 1125, sixty thousand
persons of all ranks were present. He was named by the chief men, and their nomination
was approved by the people. Struv. ibid. p. 357. The first author who mentions the seven
electors is Martinus Polonus, who flourished in the reign of Frederick II., which ended
A.D. 1250. We find that in all the ancient elections to which I have referred, the princes
of the greatest power and authority were allowed by their countrymen to name the person
whom they wished to appoint emperor, and the people approved or disapproved of their
nomination. This privilege of voting first is called by the German lawyers the right of
yrcetaxation. Pfeffel, Abrdg^, p. 316. This was the first origin of the exclusive right
which the electors acquired. The electors possessed the most extensive territories of any
princes in the empire ; all the great offices of the state were in their hands by hereditary
right ; as soon as they obtained or engrossed so much influence hi the election as to be
allowed the right of praetaxation, it was vain to oppose their will, and it even became
unnecessary for the mferior ecclesiastics and barons to attend, when they had no other
function but that of confirming the deed of these more powerful princes by their assent.
During times of turbulence, the subordinate members of the Germanic body could not
resort to the place of election without a retinue of armed vassals, the expense of which
they were obliged to defray out of their own revenues •, and findmg their attendance to be
unnecessary, they were unwillmg to waste them to no purpose. The rights of the seven
electors were supported by all the descendants and alhes of then: powerful families, who
shared in the splendour and influence which they enjoyed by this distinguishing privilege.
Pfeffel, Abr^g^, p. 376. The seven electors were considered as the representatives of all
the orders which composed the highest class of German nobility. There were three arch-
bishops, chancellors of the three great districts into which the empire was anciently
divided ; one king, one duke, one marquis, and one count. All these curcumstances con-
tributed to render the introduction of this considerable innovation into the constitution of
the Germanic body extremely easy. Everything of importance, relating to this branch of
the political state of the empire, is well illustrated by Onuphrius Panvanius, an Augustmian
mor± of Verona, who lived in the reign of Charles V. His treatise, if we make some
allowance for that partiality which he expresses in favour of the powers which the popes
claimed in the empure, has the merit of bein^ oue of the first works in which a contro-
verted point in history is examined with critical precision, and vnth a proper attention te
that evidence which is derived from records, or the testimony of contemporary historiaaa.
It is asserted by Goldastus in his Politica Imperialia, p. 2.

As the electors have engrossed the sole right of choosing the emperors, they have
assumed likewise that of deposing them. This high power the electors have not only
presumed to claun, but have ventured, in more than one uastance, to exercise. In the
year 1298, a part of the electors deposed Adolphus of Nassau, and substituted Albert of
Austria in his place. The reasons on which they found their sentence, show that this deed
flowed from factious, not from public-spirited motives. Struv. Corp. vol. i. p. 540. In
the first year of the fifteenth century, the electors deposed Wenceslans, and placed the
imperial crown on the head of Rupert, elector palatine. The act of deposition is still
extant. Goldasti Constit. vol i. p. 379. It is pronounced in the name and by the authority
of the electors, and confirmed by several prelates and barons qf the empire who were
present. These exertions of the electoral power demonstrate that the imperial authority
was sunk very low. i • j

The other privileges of the electors, and the rights of the electoral college, are explamed
by the writers on the pubUc law in Germany.
3. With respect to the diets, or general assemblies of the empure, it would be necessary,

656 PllOOFS AND ILLUSTilATlONS.

if my object were to write a particular history of Germany, to enter into a minute detail
concerning tlie forms of assembling them, the persons who have right to he present, their
division into several colleges or benches, the objects of their deliberation, the mode in which
they carry on their debates or give their suffrages, and the autliority of their decrees or
recesses. But as my only object is to give the outlines of the constitution of the German
empire, it will be sufficient to observe, that originally the diets of the empire were exactly
the same with the assemblies of March and of May, held by the kings of France. They
met, at least, once a-year. Every freeman had a right to be present. They were
assemblies, in which a monarch deliberated with his subjects concerning their common
interest. Arumaeus de Comitiis Rom. German. Imperii, 4to, Jense, 1660, cap. 7, No. 20,
&c. But when the princes, dignified ecclesiastics, and barons, acquired territorial and
independent jurisdiction, the diet became an assembly of the separate states, which formed
the confederacy of which the emperor was head. While the constitution of the empire
remained in its primitive form, attendance on the diets was a duty, like the other services
due from feudal subjects to their sovereign, which the members were bound to perform in
person ; and if any member who had a right to be present in the diet neglected to attend
m person, he not only lost his vote, but was liable to a heavy penalty. Arumaeus de
Comit. c. 5, No, 40. Whereas, from the time that the members of the diet became inde-
pendent states, the right of suffrage was annexed to the territory or dignity, not to the
person. The members, if they could not, or would not, attend in person, might send their
deputies, as princes send ambassadors, and they were entitled to exercise all the rights
belonging to their constituents. Ibid. No. 42, 46, 49. By degrees, and upon the same
principle of considering the diet as an assembly of independent states, in which each
confederate had the right of suffrage, if any member possessed more than one of those
states or characters which entitle to a seat in the diet, he was allowed a proportional
number of suffrages. Pfeffel, Abr^g^, 622. From the same cause, the imperial cities, as
soon as they became free, and acquired supreme and independent jurisdiction within their
own territories, were received as members of the diet. The powers of the diet extend to
everything relative to the common concern of the Germanic body, or that can interest or
affect it as a confederacy. The diet takes no cognizance of the mterior administration iu
the different states, unless that happens to disturb or threaten the general safety.

4. With respect to the imperial chamber, the jurisdiction of which has been the great
source of order and tranquillity in Germany, it is necessary to observe that this court was
instituted in order to put an end to the calamities occasioned by private wars in Germany.
I have already traced the rise and progress of this practice, and pointed out its pernicious
effects as fully as their extensive influence during the middle ages required. In Germany,
private wars seem to have been more frequent, and productive of worse consequences, than
in the other countries of Europe. There are obvious reasons for this. The nobiUty of
Germany were extremely numerous, and the causes of their dissension multiplied in pro-
portion. The territorial jurisdiction which the German nobles acquired, was more complete
than that possessed by their order in other nations. They became, in reality, independent
powers, and they claimed all the privileges of that character. The long interregnum, from
A.D. 1256 to A.D. 1273, accustomed them to an uncontrolled licence, and led them to
forget that subordination which is necessary in order to maintain public tranquillity. At
the time when the other monarchy of Europe began to acquire such an increase of power
and revenues as added new vigour to their government, the authority and revenues of
the emperors continued gradually to decline. The diets of the empire, which alone had
authority to judge between such mighty barons, and power to enforce its decisions, met
very seldom, Conring. Acroamata, p. 234. The diets, when they did assemble, were
often composed of several thousand members. Chronic, Constant, ap. Struv. Corp. i.
p. 546, and were tumultuaiy assemblies ill qualified to decide concerning any question of
right. The session of the diet continued only two or three days ; Pfeffel, Abr^ge, p, 244 ;
so that they had no time to hear or discuss any cause that was in the smallest degree
intricate. Thus Germany was left, in some measure, without any court of judicature
capable of deciding the contests between its more powerful members, or of repressing the
evils occasioned by their private wars.

All the expedients which were employed in other countries of Europe, in order to re-
strain this practice, and which I have described, Note 21, were tried in Germany with
little effect. The confederacies of the nobles and of the cities, and the division of Germany
into various circles, which I mentioned in that note, were found likewise insufficient. As

PROOfS AND ILLVSTEATIONS. CS?

a last remedy, the Germans had recourse to arbiters, whom they called austregce. The
barons and states in different parts of Germany joined in conventions, by wliich they
bound themselves to refer all controversies that might arise between them to the determi-
nation of austregcB, and submit to their sentences as final. These arbiters are named some-
times in the treaty of convention, an instance of which occurs in Ludewig, Reliquao
Manuscr. omnis iEvi, vol. ii. p. 212; sometimes they were chosen by mutual consen*:
upon occasion of any contest that arose; sometimes they were appointed by neutra
persons ; and sometimes the choice was left to be decided by lot. Datt. de Pace Publica
Imperii, lib. i. cap. 27, No. 60, &c. Speidelius, Speculum, &c. voc. Austrag. p. 95. Upon
the introduction of this practice, the public tribunals of justice became in a great measure
useless, and were almost entirely deserted.

In order to re-establish the authority of goveHiment, Maximilian I. instituted the
imperial chamber at the period which I have mentioned. This tribunal consisted originally
of a president, who was always a ncbleman of the first order, and of sixteen judges. The
president was appointed by the emperor, and the judges, partly by him, and partly by
the states, according to forms which it is unnecessary to describe. A sum was imposed,
with their own consent, on the states of the empire, for paying the salaries of the judges
and oflScers in tliis court. The imperial chamber was established first at Francforton
the Jilaine. During the reign of Charles V. it was removed to Spires, and continued in
what city above a century and a half. It is now fixed at Wetzlar. This court takes cogni-
zance of all questions concerning civil right between the states of the empire, and passes
judgment in the last resort, and without appeal. To it belongs likewise the privilege of
judging in criminal causes, which may be considered as connected with the preservation
of the public peace. Pfeffel, Abreg^, p. 560.

All causes relating to points of feudal right or jurisdiction, together with such as respect
the territories which hold of the empire in Italy, belong properly to the jurisdiction of the
auUc council. This tribunal was formed upon the model of the ancient court of the palace-
instituted by the emperors of Germany. It depended not upon the states of the empire,
but upon the emperor, he having the right of appointing at pleasure all the judges of-
whom it is composed. Maximilian, in order to procure some compensation for the dimi-.
nution of his authority, by the powers vested in the imperial chamber, prevailed on the
diet, A.D. 1512, to give its consent to the establishment of the aulic council. Since that
time it has been a great object of policy in the court of Vienna to extend the jurisdiction,
and support the authority of the auhc council, and to circumscribe and weaken those of
the imperial chamber. The tedious forms and dilatory proceedings of the imperial chamber
have furnished the emperors with pretexts for doing so. " LiLes Spirae," according to the •
witticism of a German lawyer, "spirant, sed nunquam expirant." Such delays are un-
avoidable in a court composed of members named by many different states jealous of each
other. Whereas the judges of the aulic council, depending upon one master, and being
responsible to him alone, are more vigorous and decisive. Puffendorf de Statu Imper.
German, cap. v. § 20. Pfefiel, Abr^g^, p. 581.

(43), page 84. — The description which I have given of the Turkish government is con-
formable to the accounts oi the most intelligent travellers who have visited that empire.
The Count de Marsigli, in his treatise concerning the military state of the Turkish em-
pire, ch. vi., and the author of Ob. ^jrvations on the Religion, Laws, Government, and
Manners of the Turks, published at London, 1768, vol. i. p. 81, differ from other writers
who have described the political constitution of that powerful monarchy. As they had
opportunity, during their long residence in Turkey, to observe the order and justice con-
spicuous in several departments of administration, they seem unwilling to admit that it
should be denominated a despotism. But when the form of government in any country
is represented to be despotic, this does not suppose that the power of the monarch is
continually exerted in acts of violence, injustice, and cruelty. Under political constitu-
tions of every species, unless when some frantic tyrant happens to hold the sceptre, tho-
ordinary adniinistration of government must be conformable to the principles ot justice,
and if not active in promoting the welfare of the people, cannot certainly have theur
destruction for its object. A state, in which the sovereign possesses the absolute command
of a vast mihtary force, together with the disposal of an extensive revenue ;_ in which th»
people have no privileges, and no part either immediate or remote in legislation; in which
there is no body of hereditary nobihty, jealous of their own rights a::d distinctioris to

^ u

C58 I'llOOFS AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

stand as an intermediate order between the prince and the people, cannot be distinguished
by any name but tliat of a despotism. The restraints, however, which I have mentioned,
arising from the capiculy, and from religion, are powerful. But they are not such as
change the nature or denomination of the government. When a despotic prince employs
an armed force to support his authority, lie commits the supreme power to the.r hands.
The prsetorian bands in Rome dethroned, murdered, and exalted their ])rinces in tlie same
wanton manner with the soldiery of the Porte at Constantinople. But, notwithstanding
this, the Roman emperors have been considered by all political writers as possessing
despotic power.

The author of Observations on the Religion, Laws, Government, and Manners of the
Turks, in a preface to the second edition of his work, hath made some remarks on what
IS contained in this note, and in that part of the text to which it refers. It is with diffi-
dence I set my opinion in opposition to that of a person who has observed the government
of the Turks with attention, and has described it witli ability. But after a careful review
of the subject, to me the Tui'kish government still appears of such a species as can be
ranged in no class but that to which political writers have given the name of despotism.
There is not in Turkey any constitutional restraint upon the will of the sovereign, or any
barrier to circumscribe the exercisa of his power, but the two which I have mentioned ;
one afforded by religion, the principle upon wliich the authority of the sultan is founded,
the other by tlie array, the instrument which he must employ to maintain his power. The
author represents the ulema, or body of the law, as an intermediate order between the
monarch and the people. Pref. p. 30. But whatever restraint the authority of the
ulema may impose upon the sovereign, is derived from religion. The moulalis, out of
whom the mufti and other chief officers of the law must be chosen, are ecclesiastics. It
is as interpreters of the Koran or divine will that they are objects of veneration. The
check, then, which they give to the exercise of arbitrary power is not different from one
of those of which I took notice. Indeed, this restraint cannot be very considerable. The
mufti, who is tiie head of the order, as well as every inferior officer of law, is named by
the sultan, and is removable at his pleasure. The strange means employed by the ulcTTia
in 1746 to obtain the dismis.sion of a minister wliom they hated, is a manifest proof that
they possess but little constitutional authority which can serve as a restraint upon the
will of the sovereign. Observat. p. 92, of 2d edit. If the author's idea be just, it is
astonishing that the body of the law should have no method of remonstrating a!gainst the
errors of administration, but by setting fire to the capital.

The author seems to consider the capiculy^ or soldiery of the Porte, neitlier as formid-
able instruments, of the sultan's j)ower, nor as any restraint upon the exercise of it.
His reasons for this opinion are, tiat the number of the capiculy is small in proportion to
the other troops which compose the Turicish armies, and that in time of pe;vce they are
undisciplined. Pref. 2d edit. pp. 23, &;c. But the troops stationed in a capital, though
their number be not great, are always'masters of the sovereign's person and power. The
praetorian bands bore no proportion to the legionary troops in the frontier provinces.
The soldiery of the Porte are more numerous, and must possess power of the same
kind, and be equally formidable, sometimes to the sovereign, and oftener to the people.
However much the discipline of the janizaries may be neglected at present, it certainly was
not so in that age to which alone my description of the Turkish government applies. The
author observes, Pref. ]). 29, that the janizaries never deposed any sultan of themselves,
but that some form of law, true or false, has been observed, and that either the mufti,
or some other minister of rehgion, has announced to the unhappy prince the law which
renders him unworthy of the throne. Observ. p. 102. This will always happen. In
every revolution, though brouglit about by military power, the deeds of the soldiery
must be confirmed and carried into execution with the civil and religious formalities pecu-
liar to the constitution.

This addition to the note may serve as a further illustration of my own sentiments,
but is not made with an iateulion of entering into any controversy with the author of
Observations, &c., to whom 1 am indebted for the obliging terms in which he lias ex-
pressed his remarks upon what 1 had advanced. Happy were it for such as ventured to
communicate their opinions to the world, if every animadversion upon them were con-'
veyed with the same candid and liberal spirit. In one particular, however, he seems to
have misapprehended what I meant, Pref. p. 1 7. I certainly did not mention his or Count
MarsigUs long residence in Turkey, as a circumstance which should detract from the

PllOOi'S AND ILLUSTRATIONS. 659

ht of tlieir iiuthority. I took notice of it, in justice to my readers, that thej might
ive my opinion with'distrust, as it differed from tliat of persons whose means of ia-
tioQ were so far superior to mine.

(44) pane 84.— The institution, the discipline, and privileges of thejamzano are
scribed bv all the authors who give any account of the Turkish government, Th?
manner in wliich enthusiasm was employed in order to inspire them with courage, is
thus related bv Prince Cuntemir: " When Amurath I. had formed them into a body,
he sent them to Haji Bektash, a Turkish saint, famous for his miracles and prophecies,
desiring liim to bestow on them a banner, to pray God for their success, and to give
them a'^name. The saint, when they appeared in his presence, put the sleeve of his gown
upon one of their heads, and said, Let them be called Yengicheri. Let their countenances
be ever biight, their hands victorious, their sword keen; let their spear always hang
over the heads of their enemies, and wherever they go, may they return with a shinb;
face," History of the Ottoman Empire, p. 38. The number of janizaries, at the first
j institution of the body, was not considerable. Under Solyman, Ih the year 1521, they
amounted to twelve thousand. Since that time their number has greatly increased.
Marsigli, Etat, &c. ch. xvi. p. G8. Though Solyman possessed such abilities and autho-
rity as to restrain this formidable body within the bounds of obedience, yet its tendency
to limit the power of the sultans was, even in that age, foreseen by sagacious observers.
Nicolas Daulphinois, who accompanied M. d'Ai-amon, ambassador from Henry IL of France
to Solyman. pubUslied an account of his travels ; in which he describes and celebrates tb
discipline of the janizaries, but at the same time predicts that they would, one day, U .-
o-ne formidable to their masters, and act the same part at Constantinople as the prae-
torian bands had done at Rome. Collecticn of Voyages from the Earl of Oxford's library,
vol. i. p. 599.

(45), page 85. — Solyman the Magnificent, to whom the Turkish historians have given
the surname of canuni, or institutor of rules, first brought the finances and military
establishment of the Turkish empire into a regular form. He divided the military forc-o
r- into the capiculy. or soldiery of the Porte, which was properly the standing army, and
i serratacidy, or soldiers appointed to guard the frontiers. The chief strength of the latter
consisted of those who held timariots and ziams. Tliese were portions of land granted to
L ' certain persons for life, in much the same manner as the raiUtavy fiefs among the nations
^1 of Europe, in return for which military service was performed. Solyman, in his Canun-
Name, or book of regulations, fixed with great accuracy the extent of these lands in each
provincfe of his empire, appointed the precise number of soldiers each person who held
a timariot or u liam should bring into the field, and established the pay which they
should receive while engaged in service. Count Marsigli and Sir Paul Rycaut have
given extracts from this book of regulations, and it appears that the ordinary establish-
ment of the Turkish army exceeded a hundred and fifty thousand men. When these
%vere added to the soldiery of the Porte, they formed a military power greatly superior
r to what any Christian state could command in the sixteenth century. Marsigli, Etat
[ Militaire, &c. p. 136. Rycaut's State of the Ottoman Empire, book iii. ch. ii. As Soly-
F man, during his active reign, was engaged so constantly in war, that his troops were
^ alwavs in tlie field, the serrataculy became almost equal to the janizaries themselves in
discipline and valour.
It is not surprising, then, that the authors of the sixteenth century should represent
le Turks as far superior to the Christians, both in the knowledge and in the practice of
:.ii art of war. Guicciardini informs us, that the Italians learned the art of fortifying
H^^wns from the Turks. Histor. Mb. xv. p. 266. Busbequius, who was ambassador from
I^Hfe I^mperor Ferdinand to Solyman, and who had opportunity to observe the state both of
l^^fe Christian and Turkish armies, published a discourse concerning the best manner of
I^Hrrying on war against the Turks, in which he points out at great length the immense
BHpvantages which the infidels possessed with respect to discipline and military improve-
P^^ents of every kind. Busbequii Opera, edit. Elzevir, p. 393, &c Tlie testimony ot
•ler authors might be added, if the matter were in any degree doubtful.

Before I conclude these Proofs and Illastratioas, I ought to explam the reason of two

2 u 2

660 PKOOrs AND ILLUSTRATIONS.

omissions in them ; one of which it is necessary to mention on my own account, the othef
to obviate an objection to this part of the work.

In all my inquiries and disquisitions concerning the progress of government, manners,
literature, and commerce, during the middle ages, as wellas in my delineations of the
political constitution of the different states of Europe at the opening of the sixteenth
century, I have not once mentioned M. de Voltaire, who, in his Essai sur Vllistoire
generate, has reviewed the same period, and has treated of all these subjects. This does
not proceed from inattention to the works of that extraordinary man, whose genius, no
less enterprising than universal, has attempted almost every different species of literary
composition. In many of these he excels. In all, if he had left religion untouched, he
is instructive and agreeable. But as he seldom imitates the example of modern historians
in citing the authors from whom they derived their information, I could not, with pro-
priety, appeal to his authority in confirmation of any doubtful or unknown fact. I have
often, however, followed him as my guide in these researches ; and he has not only
pointed out the facts with respect to which it Avas of importance to inquire, but the con-
clusions which it was proper to draw from them. If he had, at the same time, men-
tioned the books which relate these particulars, a great part of my labour would have
been unnecessary, and many of his readers, who now consider him only as an entertain-
ing and lively writer, would find that he is a learned and well-informed historian.

As to the other omission, every intelligent reader must have observed, that I have not
entered, either in the historical part of this volume, or in the Proofs and Illustrations,
into the same detail with respect to the ancient laws and customs of the British kingdoms,
as concerning those of the other European nations. As the capital facts with regard to
the progress of government and manners in their own country are known to most of my
readers, such a detail appeared to me to be less essential. Such facts and observations,
however, as were necessary towards completing my design in this part of the work, I
have mentioned under the different articles which are the subjects of my disquisitions.
The state of government in all the nations of Europe having been nearly the same during
several ages, nothing can tend more to illustrate the progress of the English constitution
than a careful inquiry into the laws and customs of the kingdoms on the continent. This
source of information has been too much neglected by the English antiquaries and lawyers.
Filled with admiration of that happy constitution now established in Great Britain^ they
have been more attentive to its forms and principles than to the condition and ideas of
remote times, which in almost every particular differ from the present. While engaged ia
perusing the laws, charters, and early historians of the continental kingdoms, I have often
been led to think that an attempt to illustrate the progress of English jurisprudence and
policy, by a comparison with those of other kingdoms in a similar situation, would bo
of great utility, and might throw much light ou some points which are now obscure, and
decide others, which have long been controverted.

INDEX.

■

ncnMET, the TuAish Vizier, strangled, 443
Adorni, the faction of, assists Colonna in

the reduction of Genoa, 159
Adrian, of Utrecht (afterwards Pope Adrian
\l.), appointed preceptor to Charles V.,
97 ; his character and learning, «6. ; his
works. 97, 98; allowed to assume the au-
thority of regent of Castile, 99 ; possesses
neither genius nor spirit to oppose Car-
dinal Ximenes, 103 ; appointed regent of
Castile, 118; chosen pope after Le9 s
death, 157; his plans, as regent of Spam,
for suppressing the insurrections, 162,
163; his incapacity as regent, 163;
Padilla, having seized the seals and ar-
chives, leaves him without power, 165 ;
two noblemen appointed by Charles as
his associates in the regency,, 166 ; the
iunta demand of Charles that his regency
be declared void, ib. ; sets out for Italy
to take possession of his new dignity as
pope, 177; his reception at Rome, tb.;
assumes the pontificate, ib. ; ill feeling of
the Italians, ib. ; his justice and modera-
tion ib.: his endeavours for peace, 1/7,
178 •' death of, 181 ; joy of the Roman peo-
ple ' ib. • his endeavours to suppress Lu-
ther's opinions, and his strong reeling
against the Reformation, 185; he de-
nounces the corruptions of the Church,
i6.; his character, 187 ^ ^ ^, ^ ,.,.
Africa, territories of, added to the Castilian
dominions, 95; defeats sustained by tlie
Spaniards in, 104 ; piratical states of, 257
Agnculture, 19; conditionof those employ-
ed in, 613 e«J se?. no^e.
AlarQon, General Don Ferdinand, 1?6; in-
trusted with the custody of Francis, after
the battle of Pavia, ib. ■ escorts Francis to
his own country, 207 ; appointed special
ambassador to Francis, 214; mtrmted
with the custody of Pope Clement 222
Albert, elector of Metz, and archbishop of
Magdeburg, sale of indulgences granted

Albert, prince of Brandenburg, grand mas-
ter of the Teutonic knights, 312 ; receives
the investiture of the province of Prussia
as a hereditary duchy, ib.

Albert, marquis of Brandenburg-Anspach,
defeated and taken prisoner, 359; set at
liberty, 375; publishes amanifesto against
Charles, 416; his military operations and
ravages in the ecclesiastical territories,
422noins Maurice against the emperor
with his mercenary troops, »o. ; con-

tinues in arms against the emperor, 4M;
joins the emperor, and defeats the duke
of Aumale, 432; his turbulent ambition,
435; confederacy against him, 436; his
army defeated, ib.
Alcantara, Spanish order of, 71
Alen90n, duke d', 153 . „^^

Alen(;on, duchess of, sister of Francis, 205
Alexander VI., Pope, 57 ; his odious vices,
136 ; a disgrace to religion and to human
nature, 512 ^ ,

Alexandria surrenders to Lautrec, 227
Alfred the Great, 9 . ,.

Algiers, kingdom of, 257; its king mur-
dered, and the government seized by Ho-
ruc Barbarossa, 258 ; governed by Hay-
radin, his brother, 259; is taken under
the protection of the Sultan, ib. ; account
of, 306; Charles's abortive attempo
against, 306, 307; the fatal disasters
which befel his army and fleet, 308, 309
Alphonso, of Naples, 61 ,^ „ -^

Alsace invaded by Henry II, of France,

421 . . ^ T. •

Alva, duke of, his suspicions of Prince
Maurice, 415; takes the command of the
emperor's forces against Metz, 431; ap-
pointed commander in Piedmont, 453;
his military operations, ib.; his opera-
tions against the pope, 475, 476 ; humbles
himself before Paul IV., 486; his victori-
ous progress towards Rome, 559, 560 ; is
compelled by Philip's treaty to ask the
pope's pardon, 560
America, ancient tribes of, 592 note
Amerstorf, a nobleman of Holland, added

to the regency of Castile, 103
Amruth, the third Turkish sultau, 84 ; es-
tablishes the janissaries, i6. .
Anabaptists, insurrection of the, in West-
phaUa, 251 ; their mad excesses in Mun-
ster, 252 ; their leader captured and ex-
ecuted, and their kingdom annihilated,
255- stm exist in the Low Countries
under the name of Mcnnonites, tb.
Angevin kings, race of, 62
Augleria, Peter Martyr, 108 , - ^ +
Angulo, Fray Martin do, prior of Yustc,

Anjou, count of, succeeds to the throne of

Naples, 61 , ^

Anjou, House of, its contentions for the

crown of Naples, 61 »t^„-„

Anne of Bretagne, 59 no^f; queen of Louis

XIL, 178 . , „,„
Annebaut, Admiral, 812
Antonio de Leyva. (-SeeLeyva)
Apocrvobal books determined by the coun.

QQ2

INDEX.

cil of Trent to be of equal autliorif y with
the Sacred Canon, 341

Appeal, custom of, 22 ; privilege of, 26

Aquaviva, the successor of Loyola as gene-
ral of the Jesuits, 295

Aquinas, Thos., 148

ABAaoK, House of, its contentions for the
crown of Naples, 62; kingdom of, 66;
its political struggles, ib. ; the political
constitution of, 67 ; justiza of, 68, 640 note ;
Charles V.'s visit to, 108 ; opposed by the
Cortes of, 108, 109 ; Don John de Lanuza
appointed viceroy of, 118; revolutionary
commotions in, 175 ; the insurgents sub-
dued by the royalists, ib.

Arcemboldo, his connection with the sale of
indulgencies, 128 note

Armies, standing, growth of, 42; result
of, ib.

Arms, possession of, honourable among un-
civilized nations, 30

Army, booty belonging to the, 6, 593 note.

Artois, Charles V. deprived of, by the par-
liament of Paris, 277

Arts, effects of the feudal system on, 9

Asturias, Charles V. declared prince of, 93

Attila, Roman embassy to, 2, 587 note ; his
extensive conquests, 589 note

Augsburg, fine imposed upon, by the em-
peror, 358 ; who abolishes its corporate
rights, and establishes a despotism, 891 ;
the ministers of, banished, 406 ; captured
by Maurice, 417

Augsburg, Diet of, 242 ; Confession of, ib. ;
issues a decree against the Protestants,
243; held by the emperor, 382, 396; re-
quest made by the, 885 ; Charles's protest
against the council of the, 386; adherents
to the Confession of, protected by the
treaty of Passau, 427 ; diet opened by
Perdinand, 456 ; recess of, nothing more
than a scheme of pacification, 460

Augustine friars, pleased with Luther's in-
vectives against the Dominicans, ]28

Aulic Chamber, of Germany, remodelled by
Maximilian, 79, 80

Aumale, duke of, defeated and taken pri-
soner, 432

Austria, house of, its vast accessions of ter-
ritory, during the reign of Charles V.,
223; progress of, during his reign, 504 et
seq.

Avila, the painter and chronicler of Charles
v.. 558

B.

" Balance of power," the great object of
policy in Europe, 50

Barbarians, northern, irruptions of the, 2 ;
their settlement in the countries they
had conquered, 3 ; their martial spirit, 4;
the desolation and changes occasioned by
them, 4, 5 ; the principles on which they
made their settlements in Europe, 6;
the feudal system originated from, ib.
(see Feudal, not only illiterate, but re-
gard literature with contempt, 587 note;
general notices of, ib,; their horrible
cruelties, 588-590

Barbarossa, Horuc, the celebrated corsair,

104; becomes king of Algiers and Tunis,
ib, ; his birth, and career as a corsair,
258; becomes king of Algiers, ib-; ac-
quires Tremecen, ib. ; is slain in Treme-
cen, 259
Barbarossa, Hayradin, succeeds his brother
Horuc as king of Algiers, 259; comes
under the protection of the sultan, ib. ;
appointed to the command of the Turkish
fleet, ib. ; determines to conquer Tunis,
ib.; his plan successful, 260; he is at-
tacked by a large European force under
Charles V-, 260, 261 ; and is defeated, 262 ;
his depredations on the coast of Naples,
279 ; his descent on Italy and siege of
Nice, 317
Barbary Coast, territory of the, added to

the crown of Castile, 195
Barbary States, historical notices of the,
257 et seq. ; divided into several king-
doms, 257; usurpation of Horuc and
Hayradin Barbarossa, 258; their pira-
tical depredations, 258 etseq.; expedition
of Charles V. against the, 260, 261 ; Bar-
barossa defeated, and Tunis restored to
the king, 263 ; their piracies suppressed,
and the Christian slaves set at liberty,
263, 264
Barbasieux, admiral of the Levant, 232
Barcelona, Charles V.'s arrival at, 109
Barons, their feudal privileges, 17; their
combative spirit, 20 ; their courts of jus-
tice, 26 ; origin of their supreme jurisdic-
tion, and attempts to limit it, 27, 28 ;
often dispute the papal authority, 56
Bayard, Chevalier, the commander at Me-
zieres, 152 ; his high character, ib. ; his
death, 184
Beatrix, of Portugal, wife of Cliarles duke

of Savoy, 267
Belgrade, captured by the Turks, 160
Bellay, Martin, 276
Bellay, William de, the French negotiator,

245 ; envoy of Francis I., 265, 266, 270
Benefices, papal right of conferring, 141-

reserved benefices, 142
Bible, translated by Luther, 184; trans-
lated in various countries, 185
Bicocca, the French defeated at, 158
Boccold, John, of Leyden, the Anabaptist
prophet, 252; rules Munster in place of
Matthias, ib. ; is crowned king, 253 ; mar-
ries fourteen wives, 253, 254; is besieged
in Munster by the German princes, 254;
Munster captured, and the fanatic put
to death, 255
Bohemia, Ferdinand's rigorous treatment
of his subjects in, 381; their liberties
overthrown, 881, 382
Boleyn, Anne, married to Henry VIIL, 249
Bologna, peace of, 239
Bonnivet, Admiral, the French courtier,
122; appointed to the command of the
French troops in the Milanese, 180 ; his
character, i6.; his ineffective operations,
180, 181 ; driven out of the Milanese ter-
ritory, 183 ; invades Italy, 18^1i ; his fatal
counsels, 194; his death, 195
Borja, Francisco, account of, 532 ; visits the
emperor, ib. ; sent on a mission to Por
tugal by Charles V., 562

INDEX.

6C3

Boulogne. bcsieK'^-'^l ^y Henry VIII., 325;
surrender of, 3i0 , , . , . , ,

Bourbon, Charles duke of, liiitli constable
of Franco, 153; his birth and character,;
178; the treatment ho received from
Louise, the queen's mother, 178, 179 ; her
amorous passion for hnu 17".); her re-
venge on .account of his uidiUerence. ib. ;
his treachery, 179, 180 ; he eludes the king,
180; commander at Milan agauist the
French, 183, 18-1; invades I' ranee, 190;
pawns his jewels to raise money, 192 ; his
great efforts at Pavia, 193, 194, hastens
to iladrid to protect his interests, 201;
arrives at Toledo, 20 1 ; warmly received
by the emperor, ih. ; honours and rewards
conferred upon him. ib. ; raises money
bv the liberation of INIorone, 217; whom
he takes into his confidence, ib. ; invades
the pope's territories, 218 et seq. ; enters
into a treaty with Lanuoy, 219 ; which he
disregards, ib.\ his assault and capture
of Rome. 221, 222; is slain during tho
assault, 221; succeeded iu eommaud by
Philibert prince of Orange, 222
Bouvines, taken by assault, 4i7
Brandenburg, margraves of, assume the

title of kings of Prussia, 212 ,

Brandenburg-Anspach, Johu marquis of,
refuses to adopt the " interim prepared
by the emperor, 380 ,., •

Bravo, Don John, commander of the insur-
gent forces of Segovia, 172; taken pri-
soner and executed, ib.
Brion, Admiral, 207

Brissac, Mar6sclial, the French general, 4a3
Britons, 2, G54 noCe , „ , .

Bmnswick, Henry duke of. endeavours to
regain his position by force, 334 ; is de-
feated and taken prisoner, ib.
Bucer, a manager of the conference of the

diet of Worms, 302 .

Buda, besieged by the Germans, 30C; seized

by Solyman, ib.
Buren, count of, 359

Burgundy, Charles V. insists on the resti-
tution of, 205; the dispute settled, w.
Burgundy, Mary of. her marriage, -16— 43 ;
perfidy of Louis XI. towards, 48

Cajetan, Cardinal, the pope's legate, 130 ;
his interview and discussion with Luther,

130,131 ^ , t ,

Calais, coneress of, 153; the last place le-
tained by the English in France, '^; in-
vested and captured by the duke of Guise.
489, 490 ; disputes respecting, 500 ; settle-
ment of, 501 ; further account of its cap-
ture, 566 , . ^

Calatrava, Spanish order of, 71 .

Cambray, league of, against \ enice, 52, 53 ;
motives of the, 52; wars thence arising,
105, 106 ; treaty of peace negotiated at,
235, 236 , , ., J 1

Campagna Eomana, conquered by the duke
of Alva, 475 , . ,

Campeggio. Cardinal, the pope's nuncio at
Nuremberg, 188

Canon law, 2S ; historical Illustrations of,

629 7iote ; 031 et seq.
Capet, Hugh, the father of tho third race

of French kings, 73
Capiculy, tho soldiery of tho Porto, 84 nofe
Caraffa, Cardinal, afterwards Paul IV., 461.
4(32; his negotiations with Henry II. ol
France, 473 ; his speech, ib.
Carignan, iu Piedmont, siege of, 323
Carlos, Don, his meeting with his grand-
father the emperor, 526, 527
Carlostadius, an early supporter of the Ue-
formation, 134; a fanatical disciple of
Luther, ISi
Carranza, archlashop of Toledo, visits the
emperor upon his death bed, 579 ; his
words are reported by Regla to the Holy
Office, ib.
Castaldo. marquis do Piadena, 410: in-
vades Transylvania, ib. ; set as a spy by
Ferdinand upon Martinuzzi, 411 ; assassi-
nates 3Iartinuzzi, 412; thwarts Prince
Maurice in Hungary, 428; driven from
Transylvania, 439
Castile, kingdom of, 66; its political
struggles, 66, 67; constitution and govern-
ment of, 68, 69; Ferdinand of Aragon.
elected regent of. 89 ; tho nobles declare
for Archduke Philip of Austria, 92 ; Philip
and Joanna declared king and queen of,
93; Philip's death, ib.; contests for the
regency, 94; Ferdinand becomes regent,
95 ; tranquillity restored, ib ; territories
iu xYfrica annexed to, ib. ; death of Fer-
dinand, 96; Cardinal Ximenes appointed
regent, 98 ; Adrian of Utrecht authorized
by Charles to assume the regency, 99
Charles V. acknowledged as king, 100;
vigorous administration of Ximenes, 101
et seq. ; the nobles dissatisfied with the
measures of Cardinal Ximenes, 101, 102;
their opposition to him, 102, 103; subdued
by the determined attitude of the car-
dinal, i6. ; La Chare and Amerstorf added
to the regency of, 103 ; dissatisfaction at
tho influence obtained by the Flemings
over Charles v., 107, 108 ; several cities of,
enter into a confederacy for the defence
of their privileges, 109 ; violent agitation
iu, 117, 118 ; Cardinal Adrian appointed
regent of, 118 ; animosity of the Castilians
ib.; the Castilians repel the French in-
vaders, 151 ; history of the civil war in,
161 et seq.; Pope Adrian's attempts to
suppress it, 162, 163 ; the Castilians re-
pulse his troops, 163 ; pretensions ot tho
commons of. 163, Ifri; their confederacy
164 ; the emperor's concessions, 160 ; re-
monstrance of the junta of, ib. ; its poUti-
cal wisdom, 107 ; irritation of the nobles,
168; violent propositions of the junta,
lb.- defeat of tho junta, 169; pecuniary
exnedients, 170; negotiations and in-
trigues, 170, 171 ; operations of Padilla
against the royalists, 171; his defeat and
death, 172; surrender of Toledo, and
flight of Donna Maria Pacheco, 174 ; tran-
quillity restored, i6. ; the cortes refuse
supplies to Charles V., 287 ; they are dis-
solved, ib. ; constable of, asserts his pri-
vUege, 23S; tho practice of private war

664

INDEX.

ill, 620 note; historical notices of her
ancient laws, 643 note

Castlealto, governor of Trent, 350

Catharine, Princess, birth of, 94>

Catharine of Aragon, Henry VIII. sues for
a divorce from, 237 ; divorced, 249

Catharine 4 Boria, married to Luther, 211

Cercarap abbey, fixed upon as the place for
a peace conference, 495 ; pefice ratified at,
502

Cerisoles, battle of, gained by thcFrench, 323

Chalons, Philibert de, commander of the
army on the death of Bourbon, 222 ; killed
at the siege of Florence, 239

Chalons, Claude de, married to Rene, count
of Nassau, 239

Chalotais, M. de, his account of the Jesuits,
296 note ; the author's information chiefly
derived from, 301 note

Charlemagne, 9; the power and splendour
of his reign, 73 ; empire of, 76; extinction j
of the German branch of, 77

Charles V., §tate of Europe at the tinjfi of
his accession, 54, 55; Spain, the heredi-
tary domain of, 64 ; his birth and consan-
guinity, 87; his hereditary dominions,
87,88; Ferdinand's jealousy of, 96; his

age at Ferdinand's death, ib. ; tys^gj^uc.a'
tion,.97.; his early development, uT."

fate

of Sjiam on his accession, ib. ; acknow-
ledged as king, 100 ; his minister Ximencs,
101 et seq, ; his wars in Navarre, 104 ; in
Africa, ib.; makes peace with France,
105; agrees to the treaty of Noyon be-
tween him and Francis I., ib. ; visits Spain,
106 ; enters Valladolid, 107 ; gives great
dissatisfaction to the Castilians by his
favouritism towards the Flemings, 108;
goes to Saragossa, the capital of Aragon,
ib. ; the violent opposition of the cortes
of Aragon, 109; proceeds to Barcelona,
109, 110 ; Francis I. of France enters into
a competition for the empire, 110, 111, 119
etseq.; views and interests of other reign-
ing potentates respecting their claims,
112 ; Frederick of Germany having de-
clined the imperial crown, Charles is
chosen emperor, 115 ; discontent of the
Spaniards at his election, 116; and oppo-
sition of the clergy, 117 ; the seditious
commotions of Valencia, 116, 117; he de-
cides against the nobles, who are expelled
by the people, 117 ; summons the cortes
of Castile to meet at Compostella, ib.;
violent opposition to, 118 ; he leaves Spain,
119 ; his rivalry with Francis I, for the
empire, 119, 120 ; their deliberations, 120 ;
he visits England, 123; his interview with
Henry VIII., ib. ; visits the Netherlands,
124; his coronation at Aix-la-Chapelle,
ib. ; assembles a diet of the empire at
Worms, to suppress heresy, ib. {see Re-
formation) ; is favoured by Henry VIII.
in opposition to Francis, 149 ; his treaty
with Leo X., ib. ; receives Cardinal Woi-
sey at Bruges, 153; concludes a league
with Henry VIII. to invade France, 153,
154 ; progress of the war in which he
engages, 156 et seq. ; his interview with
Henry VIII., 159 ; induces him to declare
war against France, 160 ; his arrival in

Spam,161 ; history of the civil wars in Cas-
tile during his absence from Spain, 161, 162;
resolves to invade France, 189; retreat
of his forces, 190 ; their embarrassment,
191 ; gains the battle of ;Pavia, 195 ; and
takes Francis prisoner, ib.-, effects of his
victory, 196 ; mutiny in his imperial army,
198 ; his treatment of Francis, 204 et seq. ;
signs the treaty of Madrid, 206 ; liberates
Francis, 207 ; marries Isabella, daughter
of Emanuel, late king of Portugal, ib.;
critical position of his affairs in Germany,
208 et seq.; league formed againt him,
213 ; his alarm, ib. ; his message to Fran-
cis, 214; his imperial army reinforced,
217 ; state of his finances, ib. ; his troops
capture Rome, and take Pope Clement
prisoner, 222; he pretends to repudiate
tjie deed, 223 ; confederacy formed against
him, 225, 226 ; sets the pope at liberty,
227; makes pacific overtures to Francis,
229 ; receives a formal challenge from
Francis, ib. ; his treaty with the pope,
235; he visits Italy, 238; his appearance
and conduct, ib.\ his moderation, 239
restores the authority of the Medici, ib. ;
his return to Germany, 240 ; appoints the
diet of Augsburg, 242; his ambitious
views, 243, 244 ; he courts the Protestants,
245 ; and grants them favourable terms,
245, 246; raises a powerful army to op-
pose Solyman in Hungary, 246; his inter-
view with Pope Clement, 246, 247 ; his
expedition against the Barbary States,
257, 260 ; he lands in Africa, 261 ; takes
the Goletta, i&.; besieges Tunis, 262; de-
feats Barbarossa, and restores the king of
Tunis, 262, 263; suppresses the Barbary
pirates, and frees the Christian slaves,
263 ; universal praise awarded to him,
264 ; a new war Ijetween him and Francis
I., 265 et seq. ; his preparations for war,
270 ; he enters Rome, ib. ; challenges
Francis in a consistory at Rome, 270, 271 ;
he invades France, 272 ; enters Provence,
274; is defeated by Montmorency, 275;
his retreat, ib. ; his operations in Picardy,
276 ; declared by the parliament of Paris
to have forfeited. Flanders and Artois, 277 ;
enters into a truce with Francis, 278 ; his
dread of the Turkish arms, ib. ; concludes
a peace, 280 ; his friendly interview with
Francis, 281 ; his financial difficulties,
287 ; opposed by the cortes of Castile, ib. ;
dismisses the assembly, ib. ; his mortifi-
cation at the opposition of the constable
and the nobles of Castile, 288 ; the citi-
zens of Ghent rebel against him, ib. ; his
journey to the Netherlands, 290 ; he gains
permission to pass through France, 291 ;
his brilliant reception there, and inter-
view with Francis, 292 ; his duplicity, ib. ;
his vengeance upon Ghent, 292; 293 ; re-
fuses to fulfil his engagements to Francis,
293 ; opposed to the Jesuits, 301 ; directs
his attention to the Protestants of Ger-
many, 301, 302; assembles the diet at
Worms, 302; and nominates the mana-
gers of the conference, ib. ; the articles
proposed by him agreed to, 303 ; he visits
Italy -=^6; his expedition against Algiers,

INDEX.

665

306 ; he landg in Africa, 807 ; the disasters
which befel his army and fleet, 308 ; beinj?
obliged to renounce his expedition he re-
turns to Europe, 309 ; his arrival in bpain,
ib. ; his various schemes for raising money,
313 ; his dissatisfaction with Paul 111., tb- ;
his preparations for war against Francis,
ib.i negotiates with Henry \III., i6. ;
summons a diet at Spires, 320 ; his con-
cessions to the Protestants, 321, 322; his
negotiations with Denmark, 322; he in-
vests St. Disier, 325; approaches Pans,
326; concludes a peace at Crespy, 32/;
the pope incensed against him, lo.; his
schemes respecting Germany, 330 ; at-
tends the diet of AVorms, 331 ; suspected
by the Protestants, 332; his artful endea-
vours to deceive them, 34,0 ; his alliances,
342 ; his treaty with the pope, SU ; he
cloaks his real designs, ib. ; the pope di-
vulges his plan against the Protestants,
345; who make defensive preparations,
345—347 ; inequality of his forces, 347, 348 ;
the Protestants declare war against him,
349; joined by the pope's troops, 351 ; he
declines a battle, 352; joined by the
Flemish troops, ib. ; state of his army,
353 ; leagues with Maurice of Saxony, 354;
overtures of the confederates rejected,
366, 357; their submission to him, 357;
suspends his operations in Germany, 366 ;
alarmed at the combinations pressing
against him by Francis, 367 ; death of his
great rival, 368 ; comparison between him
and Francis, 369, 370 ; he marciies against
the elector of Saxony, 370; he passes the
Elbe, 371, 372; gains the battle of Mul-
hausen, 373 ; takes the elector of Saxony

Srisoner, ib.; invests Wittemberg, 374;
is ungenerous treatment of the elector,
ib. ; conditions prescribed by him to the
landgrave of Hesse, ib.; treacherously
detains him as a prisoner, 378 ; his ex-
actions, 381; he quarrels with the pope,
385 ; prepares a system to serve as a rule
of faith, 387; enforces the "interim,
388 ; opposition to, 388, 390 ; receives his
son Philip in the Low Countries, 392;
the pope's schemes against him, 394; his
scheme of succession, 396 ; his proposition
to Ferdinand, ib.; his violence against
the Protestants, 404 ; his suspicions of
Maurice of Saxony, 414; deceived by cir-
cumstances, 415, 416; his astonishment
at the hostile declarations of Maurice
and Henry II. of France against him,
417 ; his linancial difficulties, ib. ; his in-
capability of resistance, ib. ; his flight,
419; his insolent demands rejected at the
conference of Passau, 425 ; his demands
abated, ib.; all his regulations annulled
and defeated by the treaty of Passau, 426,
427; releases the elector of Saxony and
the landgrave of Hesse, 429 ; his hostile
designs against France, ib.; he invests
Metz, 431 ; operations of his forces, 432 ;
raises the siege of Metz, 433 ; ruin of his
army, ib. ; his financial difficulties, 434 ;
his extensive losses in Italy, i6. ; in Hun-
gary. 439 ; his marriage projects, 444, 445 ;
his rosolutiou to abdicate, 466; his mo

tives for resignation, 467; death of his
aged mother, 468 ; his abdication, and
speech on the occasion, 468, 469 ; he re-
signs the crown of Spain, 470; renews the
scheme for procuring the succession for
his son, 476, 477 ; he embarks for Spain,
477; and arrives at Yuste, the place of
his retreat, 478; his conduct contrasted
with that of the pope, ib.; habits of,
during his retreat, ib. ; death of. and its
causes, 496 ; his character and genius, 497,
498; review of the state of Europe during
his reign, 503 et seq. ; life of, after his ab-
dication, 517 et seq. ; forms the design of
abdicating the throne years before he ac-
complishes it, 520; choice of Yuste for a
residence, 520, 521 ; orders a mansion to
be erected at Yuste, 521 ; his departure
from Brussels for Spain, 521, 522; his
household, 521, 522 ; meets his son PhiUp,
522 ; lands in Spain, 523 ; his disappoint-
ment at his reception, ib. ; intrusts
Quixada with the care of his illegitimate
son. Don John of Austria, 525; makes
him his major-domo, 526; his reception
at Burgos on his way to Yuste, ib. ; his
meeting with his grandson, Don Carlos,
ib. ; his stay at Valladolid, 527 ; his
quar,ters with Rodrigo de Duenas, 528;
his stay with Count Oropesa, 529 ; prepa-
rations for him at Yuste, 530 ; his inte-
rest in Philip's war against Pope Paul IV.,
531; his visitors, 531. 532; his inordinate
appetite, 533, 534; his consequent gout,
535 ; his narrow resources, 536 ; reduction
of his household, ib.; his reception at
Yuste, 537 ; the style of his residence, 538,
539; his wardrobe, &c., 540; his super-
stition, ib. ; his connoisseurship in paint-
ings, and patronage of Titian, 541; his
library, ib. ; his mode of rewarding his
chamberlain. Van Male, 543 ; the character
and expenses of his household at Yuste,
543, 544 ; his habits, 544—548 ; his defer-
ence to his confessor, 545 ; his attention
to mechanism, 546 ; his attention to
music, 546, 547 ; and to church ceremonies,
&c., 547— 549; his "profession" at Yuste,
550; his health, 551; his amusements,
552; the erroneous opinions prevalent
concerning his interest in public affairs,
553; Philip II. sends Ruy Gomez to
confer with him, 554; he promises to
assist Philip in financial matters, 554, 555 ;
his rage at the abstraction of the bul-
lion from the public store, 555 ; his re-
joicing over the victory at St. Quintin,
556 ; is overwhelmed with applicants for
his influence and aid, 556, 557; his at-
tentions to Sepulveda the historian, 557 ;
his freedom from vanity illustrated, 558 ;
his anxiety to hear frem Philip, ib. ; the
public expectation as to his leaving Yuste
for active life, 559 ; quiets his conscience
as to Navarre, ib. ; his regret at the un-
equal terms of Philip's treaty with Pope
Paul IV., 559, 560; his annoyances from
his neighbours at Cuacos, 561 ; instances
of his lenity, ib. ; his interference to pre-
vent his daughter Joanna making claim to
the re««ncj of Portugal, 562 ; sends an ea«

666

voy to make claim for Don Carlos,562 ; con-
fesses to having written his autobiography,
663 ; the memoirs destroyed or lost, 563,
564 ; receives a visit from liis sisters, 564 ;
his feelings upon the news of the fall of
Calais, 566 ; death of his sister, the queen
of France, 567 ; his affliction, ib. ; receives
a second visit from his sister Mary, ib. ;
receives the news of the acceptance of his
resignation of the empire, 568; his renun-
ciation of the honours of sovereignty, 569;
his alarm at the spread of the Protestant
doctrines, ib. ; his movements against the
Protestants, 569, 570 ; his intolerant bi-
gotry, 570 ; his ill health, 570, 571 ; cele-
brates his own obsequies, 571 ; the Jero-
nymite account of the commencement of
his fatal illness, 572—575 ; makes a codicil
to his will, 576 ; pensions his attendants,
ib. ; his bitter intolerance towards Luther
and the heretics, ib. ; provides for his
burial-place, 577 ; progress of the disorder,
ib. ; extreme unction, 678 ; his interview
with Quixada, ib. ; receives the sacrament,
579 ; attended by Carranza, and by Vill-
aiva, ib. ; his death, 580 ; the appearance
of his body after death, 581 ; the funeral
obsequies, 581, 583; the regent Joanna
claims his personal effects, 582 ; his obse-
quies also celebrated at Valladolid and
elsewhere, 583 ; the impression produced
by his death, ib. ; the funeral ceremonies
at Brussels, ib. ; his remains removed to
the Eseorial, 584, 585
Charles VII. of France, his policy, 41, 42 ;
progress of royal power under, 43 ; first
exercises a monarchical power, 75
Charles VIII. of France, invades Italy, 48 ;
his resources, ib. ; his success, 49 ; takes
possession of the throne of Naples, ib. ;
his resources exhausted, 52
Charles, duke of Savoy. {See Savoy)
Charters, 15, 16 ; historical illustrations of
the granting of, 607 e« seq. notes; 610, 611,
Ql'2>etseq.
Chastity, clerical composition for the viola-
tion of, 138
Chateaubriand, Madame de, 151
Chatelet besieged by Phihp II., 485
Chatelherault, meeting of Charles and

Francis at, 292
Cheregato, the pope's nuncio at Nurem-
berg, 185
Chi6vres, Wm. de Croy, lord of, appointed
to superintend the education of Charles
v., 97 ; his talents, 97, 98 ; appoints Adrian
of Utrecht his preceptor, 97 ; the kind of
instruction which he imparted to his
pupil, 98 ; his great power and venality,
104; negotiates a treaty of alliance be-
tween Francis I. and Charles V., 105 ; his
policy, ib.\ His great influence over
Charles gives dissatisfaction to the Cas-
tilians, 107; his influence and venality,
108; elevation of his nephew to the arch-
bishopric of Toledo, ib.\ death of, 150
Chivalry, institution of, 31; its beneficial
effects, 32; historical illustrations of,
632, 633 note
Christian religion degraded by the north-
ern barbarians into an illiberal supersti-

tion, 9; embraced by tiie Goths in Spain,
64

Christian Church, the most extravagant
doctrines held in the early ages of the, 251

Christianity, papal doctrines repugnant to
the spirit of, 145, 146

Christians, their horror of the infidels, 278 ;
early contests among, 459; their intole-
rance, 460

Church, scandalous schism of the, in the
14th and 15th centuries, 136; corrupt
state of the, 137; clerical immorality and
oppression, 1S8, 142 ; the llomish hierar-
chy, 142

Cities, formed into communities and muni-
cipal bodies, 14; ancient state of, 16 et
seq. ; the inhabitants of, first acquire po-
litical importance, 16; establishment in
Spain, 71, 644 note ; violent opposition of
the imperial cities of Germany to the
" interim" proposed by Charles V., 390 ;
compelled to submit, 391; historical il-
lustrations of the growth of, 607 et seq.
note, 610, 611

Clement VII., pops, 131 ; his opposition to
the Reformation, 187 ; bis treaty of neu-
trality with Francis, 193 ; promotes the
Holy League against the emperor, and
absolves Francis from his oath, 213;
made prisoner by the Colonnas, and con-
ditions extorted from him, 216; his se-
verity to the Colonnas, 218; turns his
arms against Naples, ib.\ enters into a
treaty with Bourbon, which the latter
refvises to fulfil, 219 ; prepares for defence,
221 ; his imbecile bigotry, ib. ; besieged
in St. Angelo, 221; taken prisoner, 222;
asents to ignominious conditions, ib.-.
general indignation excited by his treat-
ment, 225 ; remains a prisoner, ib. ; his
intrigues, 226; his ransom, ib.\ obtains
his liberty, 223; his intriguing spirit,
231 ; negotiates a ti-eaty of peace with
Charles, 235 ; his interview with Charles,
246 ; and with Francis, 249 ; death of, 250 •
observations on, 265, 267

Clergy, Romish, their opposition to Charles
v., 116 ; their gross immorality, 136, 137 ;
their compositions for crimes. 138 ; their
oppressions, 138, 139; their immunities,
139; their encroachments, 140; theirspi-
ritual censures, ib.'., thei^ rule in Ger-
many, 140, 141 ; vicious state of the, at tho
beginning of tho sixteenth century, 142

Cleves, duke of, 312 ; defeated by Charles,
and obhged to submit to ignominious
conditions, 317 ; his solicitations to save
the life of the elector of Saxony, 375

Clovis, his army, and division of their
booty, 593 note

Cnipperdoling, the fanatical Anabaptist,
252

Cognac, league concluded at, 213

Coligny, Admiral, defends St. Quintin, 482,
484; his heroic character, 483 ; taken cap-
tive, 485

Cologne, archbishop of, excommunicated,
341

Cologne, elector of, resigns, 358

Colonna, Prosper, goieral of the papal
forces against Odet de Foix, 155 • becomes

INDEX.

of Genoa, 159; assisted by the

faction of the Adorni, ib, ; defends Milan,
ISO, 181

Colonna, Cardinal Pompeo, the head of the
Colonna family, 216 ; his turbulent tem-
per, ib.; opposed to Clement VII., ib.;
degraded by Clement, 21S

Colonnas, supporters of the Ghibelline fac-
tion, 216; enter Rome, make Pope Cle-
ment a prisoner, and extort conditions
from him, ib.; excommunicated by Cle-
ment, 218; and by Paul IV., 47-4

Comares, Marquis de, governor of Oran, 2uS ;
defeats Barbarossa, 259

Combat, trial by, 21 ; consequences of its
prohibition, ib. ; historical illustrations
of, 615 et seq. note

Combination, progress of, 40 ; its effect on
the French monarchy, 41

Commerce, influence of, among European
nations, 34 ; low state of, in the Middle
Ages, 35 ; causes of its revival, ib. ; makes
progress in the Netherlands and England,
36 ; its beneficial effects, 36, 37

Commercial intercourse between nations,
84; historical illustrations of, 634 note,
635 et seq.

Compostella, the cortes of Castile summon-
ed to meet Charles V. at, 117; disturb-
ances caused thereby, 118

Compurgators, 22

Conchillos, employed by Ferdinand of Ara-
gon, 91

Confederacy, European, against Charles,
225, 226

Confederation of the German body, 80 ; si-
milar to the Achaean league, ib.

Confederates of Smalkalde, their military
demonstration, 351 ; overtures of the, 356;
their rejection by Charles, 367 ; their sub-
mission to the emperor, 358; penalties
inflicted on the, 358; protected by the
treaty of Passau, 426. (See Holy League,
Smalkalde, and Protestants)

Confession of Augsburg, 242

Conrad, count of Franconia, elected empe-
ror of Germany, 77

Conradin, prince of Suabia, put to death, 62

Constance conforms to the " interim," and
renounces its municipal privileges, 392

Contolori, Felix, his account of the sale of
indulgences, 128, 129 note

Cornelius. Dr., consulting physician to
Charles V., 575

Corporations, 15,17 ; historical illustrations
of their origin and growth, 607 et seq.
note, 610, 611

Corsica, conquered by the French, 439

Cosmo, the first of the Medici family, Ca
(See Medici)

Council. (See General Council)

Courtnay, earl of Devonshire, 444

Cranmer, Archbishop, obtains a divorce for
Henry VIU., 249

Crespy, peace kw^tween Francis and Charles
concluded at, 327

Crimes, clerical composition for, 130

Crusades, their early history, 10; their be-
neficial effects upon society, 12, 13 ; their
influence on property, IS; their commer-
cial eflect. ib. ; several orders of religious

knighthood founded during the frenzy of
the, 211, 212; historical proofs and illus-
trations of, 602 et seq. note

D'Albret. John, expelled from the throne
of Navarre, 95 ; takes up arms in defence
of his hereditary dominions, 1.51

D'Albret, Henry, prince of Navarre, 151 ;
taken prisoner at Pavia, 195

D'Alembert, M., his character of the Je-
suits, 297 note

Dandclot, Colonel, general of the French
infantry, enters St. Quintin, 482

Dauphin of France, son of Francis I., death
of, 270

Dauphin, son of Henry II., married to
Mary queen of Scots, 491, 492

De Croy, William. (See Chi6vres)

De Croy, William, nephew of Chitjvres,
made archbishop of Toledo by Charles V.,
103 ; indignation of the Spaniards at the
appointment, 109; death of, 174

Denmark, Charles's negotiation with, 322 ;
state of, during the reigu of Charles V ,
514

D'Ess(5, General, killed, 438

Diana of Poicticrs, mistress of Henry II.,
464 ; aids in persuading him to make an
alliance with Paul IV., ib. ; induces
Henry to break the treaty of Vaucelles,
473

Dinant, capture of, 447

Dominicans intrusted with the sale of in-
dulgences, 128

Doria, Andrew, the first naval officer of the
age, 227 ; his high character, 232 ; revolts
against the French, ib.; brings rehef to
Naples, ib. ; captures Genoa, 233 ; restores
it to liberty, 234 ; his magnanimity, ib. ;
styled the " Father of his country," ib. ;
high admiral of the fleet sent against
Tunis, 261 ; his advice to Charles V. re-
jected, 364; compels Barbarossa to raise
the siege of Nice, 317; his return to
Genoa after the conspiracy of Fiesco, 366
^ Doria, Gianetino. designed by his great-
j uncle, Andrew, to succeed him in the
i government of Genoa, 360; slain in the
i insurrection under Fiesco, 364

Du Pi-at, Cliancellor, his venal character,
i 179

• Duelling, 21, 230 ; historical illustrations of,
615 et seq. note ; its prevalence in various
nations, 621

Dunkirk taken by storm, 493

D'Urbino, Duke, commander of the Italian
forces, marches to the relief of Eome,
222; but retires, 223

Duren taken by assault, 315

E.

Eccius of Augsburg endeavours to refute
Luther, 128 ; a manager of the conference
at the diet of Worms, 302

Ecclesiastical courts, their origin, 28; their
constitution. 29; progress of their usurp?-"

66b

INDEX.

tion, 29 ; historical illustrations of, 629 et
seq. note ; 630 et seq.

Ecclesiastical rule, its defects, C7, 58 ; op-
pressions of, iu Germany, 138, 139 et seq-

Ecclesiastical reservation, one of tho ar-
ticles contained in the " recess of Augs-
burg," 461

Ecclesiastics, Romish, their improvement
in morals since the Reformation, 512

Egmont, count of, general of Spanish
cavalry, 483; defeats Mareschal de
Terraes, 492

Ehrenberg, castle of, captured by Prince
Maurice, 419

Eleanora of Portugal pays a visit to her
brother the emperor at Yustc, 564 ; her
meeting with her daughter, the infanta,
565 ; her death, 567

Electorate of Germany, 80, 81

Electors of Germany, assembly of the, 113 ;
elect Charles V. as emperor, 115

Elizabeth, queen of England, her accession,
498 ; her friendship courted by Henry of
Prance and Philip of Spain, 499 ; her cau-
tious policy, 500; agrees to articles of
peace, 501 ; her political views, ib.

Emanuel, king of Portugal, 91

Empire. (/See Germany)

Enfranchisement, the people acquire liberty
by, 18

Enghien, Duke, slain at St. Quintin, 483

England, trade and manufactures estab-
lished in, 36 ; policy of, 197, 198 ; at war
with Prance, 329; declares war against
Prance at the instigation of Philip of
Spain, 481; makes peace with Prance,
501, 502; state of, during the reign of
Charles V., 505 et seq.; her national and
foreign policy, 568 ; her transactions with
Prance and Germany, passim; early com-
merce of, 638 note. (See Henry VIIL,
Prancis, and Charles)

Enguien, Count, a prince of Bourbon, 317 ;
his gallantry, 323 ; gains the victory of
Cerisoles, ib.

Enriques, Don Padrique, appointed regent
of Castile, 166

Erasmus, his strictures on the errors of the
Church and the vices of the clergy, 144 ;
his connection with Luther, 145

Ernest of Brunswick, 374

Escorial, the remains of the royal family
gathered by Philip, and entombed in the,
584

Espernay, capture of, 326

Espionage, the system of the Jesuits, 298

Essek, battle of, 279

EtTEOPE, effects of the Roman power on
the state of, 1, 2; origin of the present
political system of, 6 ; state of, from the
seventh to the eleventh century, 8; effects
of the feudal system on, 8, 9; martial
spirit of, 23, 24; social and intellectual
progress of, 25 ; state of, at the period of
discovering the code of Justinian, 29 ; in-
fluence of commerce in, 34 ; confederation
of, in the league of Cambray, 53 ; and its
results, 54; state of, on the accession
of Charles V., ib.; position of, during
Charles's reign, 503 et seq. ; review of the
house of Austria. 505, 506; of Prauco, 50G,

507 ; of England, 507, 508 ; of the reforma.
tion in, and its consequences, 609 ; of th*
Roman pontiffs, 510, 511; of the moral
improvement in, 512 ; of Venice, ib. ; oi
Tuscany, 513 ; of Savoy, ib. ; of the United
Provinces, 514; of Russia, Denmark, and
Sweden, ib.

European States, their resources, 38 ; their
affairs at first entirely distinct, Sd

Eutemi, king of Algiers, murdered by Bar-
barossa, 258

Excommunication, papal, issued against
Luther, 133 ; severity of papal excommu-
nications, 140

Expectative graces of the papal church, 142

P.

Paith, the emperor prepares a system to
serve as a rule of, 387, 388 ; the " interim,"
ib. ; contests of, 444

Parnese, Alexander, raised to the papal
throne, 250

Parnese, duke of Parma, 363

Parnese, Octavio, 281; commander of the
Italian auxiliaries against the confede-
rates of Germany, 351 ; endeavours to sur-
prise Parma, 394 ; makes overtures to the
emperor, ib. ; placed in possession of
Parma by Julius III., 395 ; the pope's
hostility to, 403; with the emperor's co-
operation the pope sends troops against
him, 404 ; forms an alliance with Henry
II. of Prance, ib. ; repels the papal in-
vaders from Parma, 405

Parnese, Peter Lewis, son of Paul III.,
333; vested with the duchies of Parma
and Placentia, ib. ; his violent animosity
against the emperor, 383 ; is assassinated
by Gonzaga, 384

Perdinand and Isabella of Spain, 46 ; they
extend the royal prerogative, 71; their
schemes for abridging the power of the
nobility, ib.; causes of Perdinand's ac-
cession to regal power, 87 ; jealous of his
son-in-law Philip, 88

Perdinand of Aragon, appointed regent of
Castile on the death of his wife Isabella,
90 ; acknowledged by the cortes, ib. ; his
contests with Archduke Philip, ib.; his
policy, 91 ; married to the sister of Louis
XII., ib. ; signs a treaty with Archduke
PhiUp, 92 ; the nobility of Castile declare
against him, ib. ; he resigns the regency
of Castile, and retires to Aragon, 93 ; on
the death of Archduke Philip he becomes
a competitor for the regency, 94; made
regent, 95; his acquisition of territory,
ib. ; his jealousy of his grandson Charles,
96 ; his death, ib.

Perdinand of Castile, second son of Philip
and Joanna, and brother of Charles V.,
birth of, 89 ; appointed regent of the king-
doms of Perdinand of Aragon, 96; this
arrangement reversed, and Charles V. left
sole heir, ib. ; removed from Guadalupe
to Madrid, 100; sent to Germany, 108;
elected king of Hungary, 223; his high
qualities, 243, 244 ; chosen king of the
llomans' and crowned at Aix-la-Chapeller

INDEX.

G69

241 ; his agreement with John Zapol
Scaepus foi* the succession to the throne
of Hungary, 304; who afterwards marries,
and breaks the treaty, ib. ; demands the
kingdom of the regents, ih. ; raises an
army against them, ib. ; is defeated, 305 ;
proposes to Solyraan to hold Hungary
subject to tribute, 306 ; Solyman tlireatens
to drive him from tlie towns he still held,
ib. ; his concessions to the protestants,
320 ; rigorous treatment of his Bohemian
subjects, 381; overthrows their liberties,
882 ; elected king of the Romans, 402 ;
Charles's proposition to, for securing the
succession, ib. ; his conciliating manners,
403; invited by Martinuzzi to lay claim
to the kingdom of Hungary, 410; the
queen is compelled to renounce it in his
favour, 411 ; jealous of Martinuzzi he pro-
cures his assassination, 411, 412; meets
Maurice at the congress of Passau, 423 ;
his negotiations for peace, 425—427 ; opens
the diet of Augsburg, 456 ; alarm caused
by his speech, 456, 457; his policy, 457;
assembles the electors of Frankfort, and
lays before them the instrument whereby
the imperial crown had been transferred
to him, 490 ; he is elected to the imperial
dignity, ib. ; his election disputed by the
pope, ib.

Ferdinand I. of Naples, 61

Ferrara, duke of, his possessions restored
by Adrian VI., 177 ; Charles allows him to
retain all his dominions, 239

Feudal system of Europe, its origin, 6 ; its
effects upon arts, literature, and religion,
8, 9 ; of Spain, 163, 164 ; of Germany, 208 ;
dissatisfaction with, and contests thence
arising, ib. et seq. ; its history and pro-
gross interesting to all European nations,
593 note; general dissertation on, 594—
599 et seq. note; the servi, 599 7iote ; the
villani and the freemen, iO. note

Field of the Cloth of Gold, on which Charles
V. and Francis I. had their meeting, 123 ;
feats of the, ib. note

Fienne, John de, bishop of Bayonne, con-
cludes a treaty between Henry II. and
Prince Maurice, 413

Fiesco, John Lewis, count of Lavagna, his
character, 381 ; proposes to overthrow the
government of Doria, ib. ; joins with Ve-
rina, ib. ; his studied dissimulation, 362 ;
makes known his plan to his followers,
363; he parts with his wife, ib. ; he cap-
tures the galleys, 364 ; falls overboai'd, and
is drowned, ib.

Fiesco, Jerome, his blunder in the insur-
rection of Genoa, 36^i, 365 ; captured, 366

Fiessen, town of, 418

Fines, payment of, 28; as satisfaction for
injuries, 624 ct seq. note

Fire, ordeal by, 22, 23

Flanders, Charles V. deprived of, by the
parliament of Paris, 277

Flemings, their venality in Castile, 104 ;
their extensive commerce, 105 ; their in-
fluence over Charles V., 107; their re-
sistance to Francis I., 277; dismissal of
the, 359; defeat the Trcucli near Grave-
lines, 49-

Florence, constitution of, 60

Florentines, declare themselves a free state,
226 ; enter into the confederation against
Charles, 227; oppose the restoration ot
the Medici, 239

Fonseca, Antonio de, appointed to besiego
Segovia, 168 ; destroys Medina del Campo,
ib.

Fontarabia lost to the French, 183

France, effect of political combination on,
40,41; her military strenirth. 41; exten-
sion of royal prerogative in, 4^i et seq. ; an-
cient government and laws of, 73 ; con-
stitution and government of, 74 ; power
of the general assemblies under the dif-
ferent races of kings, ib. ; growth of the
monarchical government in, ib. ; restric-
tions on the authority of the crown, 75,
76 ; the parliament of Paris, 76 ; enters
into a treaty of alliance with Charles V.,
105 ; league against, 153, 154 ; Henry VIII.
declares war against, 159, 160; invaded by
the English, 166; her coasts ravaged, ib. ;
invaded by the English and Flemish
under the duke of Suffolk, 182; public
disasters of, 183 ; the French abandon the
Milanese, 183, 184 ; stripped of her Italian
possessions, and left without an ally in
that country, 184; invaded by Charles
without success, 189, 190; the imperial
forces retreat from, 190; invades Italy,
227 ; her forces ruined in the Milanese
and at Naples, 234 ; she takes possession
of Savoy, 267, 268; invaded by Charles,
272 ; his brilliant reception on his journey
throHgh, 291; renews hostilities with
Charles, 314, 315; her military strength,
312; operations of her forces, 313; her
rupture with Henry VIII., 315 ; her mili-
tary operations in the Low Countries,
316 ; at war with England, 329 ; the dau-
phin's dissatisfaction at the peace with
Charles, ib.; at war with the emperor,
under Henry II., 417 ; at war with the
queen of Hungary, 422; hostile designs
of Charles against, 429; enters into a
truce with Spain, 471 ; at war with Philipt
479 et seq. ; England declares war against.
481 ; operations of her troops under tl?^
duke of Guise, who captures Calais and.
other places, 488, 489 ; makes peace with
England, 501, 502 ; progress of, during the
reign of Charles, 506 et seq. ; the various
revolutions of property in, 595—598 note ;
historical illustrations of her early go-
vernment, 646 ct seq. note ; 648 et seq.
{See Francis I. and Henry II.)

Feancis I. king of France, 75: his
treaty of alliance with Charles V., 105
106 ; demands the restitution of Navarre,
109; enters into a competition with
Charles for the empire, 110, 111, 119 et
seq. ; views of other reigning potentates
respecting it. 111, 112 ; opposed by Henry
VIII. of England. 149 ; his Italian admi-
nistration, IS-i; Leo X. declares war
against, 155 ; progress of the war, in which
he becomes engaged, 156 et seq. ; Henry
VIII. declares war against, 159; is left
without .1 single ally, 178; the duke of
Bourbou\ conspiracy against, 179 e^ seq.

670

INDEX.

his attack on Milan, 180, 181 ; defeated
in his attempts vipon Burgundy and
Guienne, 182; termination of his cam-

Jmign of 1523, ib. ; abandons the Mi-
anese, 184; his precautions against
Charles's threatened invasion, 190; he
resolves to invade Italy, 191 ; he besieges
Pavia, 192; is defeated at the battle of
Pavia, 195; and taken prisoner, ib. ; con-
sternation caused thereby throughout
Prance, 196, 197 ; conditions for his libera-
tion, 199; is carried to Spain, 200 ; con-
veyed to Madrid, and there detained a
prisoner, ib.; his treatment, 203, 204;
negotiations for his release, 205; he re-
solves to abdicate, ib. ; signs the treaty
of Madrid for his release, ib. ; its hard
conditions, 206; his liberation, 207; his
arrival on the French territories, ib. ; his
first measures, 212; forms a league
against the emperor, 218; the pope ab-
solves him from the treaty of Madrid,
ib. ; the message he receives from Charles,
214; his preparations for war, 215; in-
vades Italy, 227 ; receives overtures of
peace, 229 ; he sends a personal challenge
to the emperor, ib. ; his forces being
driven from the Milanese and Naples he
sues for peace, 235 ; concludes the peace
of Cambray at a great sacrifice, 236 ; loses
his reputation and the confidence of
Europe, ib. ; his policy, 248 ; his interview
with the pope, 249 ; he engages in a new
war with Charles, 365 et seq. ; his unsuc-
cessful negotialioas with the German
Protestants, 206 ; his public profession of
faith, and cruel intolerance, 267 ; his mi-
litary operations, ib. ; his occupation of
Savoy, ib. ; his new claim to the duchy of
Milan, 269; challenged by Charles in a
consistory at Rome, 271 ; his territories
invaded by Charles, 272, 274 ; his plan of
defence, 273 ; intrusts its execution to
Montmorency, 274; his troops are vic-
torious over Charles, 275 ; his joy at his
good fortune, 276; embittered by the
death of his eldest son, ib. ; he suspends
hostilities, 278; forms an alliance with
Solyman of Turkey, ib.; enters into a
truce at Nice, 280 ; concludes a peace, ib. ;
his friendly interview with Charles, 281 ;
rejects the offer of submission from the
Gantois, 289, 290; grants permission to
Charles to pass through Pra.nce, 291 ; his
meeting with Charles at Chatelherault,
292; renewal of hostilities with Charles,
310 et seq. ; his confederates, 312 ; his
military strength, ib. ; operations of his
forces, 313 ; his preparations for another
campaign, ib. ; negotiates with Solyman,
315 ; his campaign in the Low Countries,
816; gains the battle of Cerisoles, 323;
his operations in the Low Countries. 824 ;
concludes a peace at Crospy, 327 ; at war
with England, 328; the dauphin's dis-
satisfaction at the peace with Charles,
329; jealous of the emperor, 806; endea-
vours to form alliances against him, 367 ;
his death, 368; reflections on his cha-
racter, 368, 369; compai'ison between him
and Charles, 369, 370

Franciscans, intrusted with the sale of in-
dulgences in Switzerland, 133
Francfort, convention of, 286; fine imposed

upon, by the emperor, 358
Frederic II., emperor of Germany, death

of, 61
Frederic III;, emperor of Germany, 48
Frederic, duke of Saxony. {See Saxony)
Fregosi, faction of the, at Genoa, 159
Friburgh, canton of, seizes the possessions
of the Duke of Savoy, 268

Gachard, M., his researches in the archives
of Simancas, 518

Gantois. {See Ghent)

Gasca, Don Pedro de la, his hospitality to
the emperor, 526

Gattinara, chancellor, 203

Gaztelu, secretary to Charles V., his salary,
544; named as one of the executors of
the emperor's will, 543

General Council of Germany, Luther's ap-
peal to the, 132 ; proposed by Adrian, to
settle religious diifereuces, 186 ; negotia-
tions respecting, 247 ; negotiations for, in
Germany, 284; dissolved by Paul III.,
392

General of the Jesuits, his system of es-
pionage, 296

Geneva, renounces its allegiance to Charles,
duke of Savoy, 268 ; recovers its liberty,
ib.

Genoa, captured by Colonna, 159 ; by Lau-
trec, 227 ; by Doria, 233 ; and restored to
liberty, 234 ; history of the conspiracy in,
360 et'seq.; attack on the city, 364; fail-
ure of the conspiracy, 365

George duke of Saxony. {See Saxony)

George of Mecklenburg. {See Mecklen-
burg)

Germaine de Poix, married to Ferdinand
of Aragon, 91

Gerraanada, an association formed at Va-
lencia, 117, 174 ; defeated and broken up
by the nobles, 175

Geema-NT, and the GEEMA?f Empike, its
early history, 70 et seq. ; Otho the Great,
77; its contentions with the popes, 78;
decline of the imperial authority, ib.\
change in the constitution of the em-
pire, 79, 80; imperial chamber of, 80; the
Germanic confederation, ib. ; defects in
the constitution of, 81 ; limited power of
the emperors, ib. ; the electorate, ib. ;
causes of dissension, 82 ; its want of con-
cord and uniformity, ib. ; disputes for the
empire of, between Charles V. and Fran-
cis I. on the death of Maximilian, 110 et
seq.; assembling of the electors of, 114;
Charles chosen emperor of, 115; and
crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle, 124 ; pro-
gress of the Reformation in, 134 et seq. ;
ecclesiastical oppression in, 138, 139 et
seq. ; tranquillity of, 184 ; progress of the
Reformation in, 185 et seq. ; distracted
state of, 208; feudal institutions of, ib.;
insurrections in, ib. et seq.; progress of
the Reformation in, 223, 224 ; state of, on

nsDEX.

671

Charles's visit to, 240; excesses of the
Anabaptists in, 251— 2r)5 ; Protestants
of, refuse to assist Francis L, 266; the
Germans defeated by the Turks at
Essek, 279; progress of the Reforma-
tion in, 2S0 et seq. ; Charles directs his
attention to the religious disputes in,
302: the Germans defeated by Solyman
at Buda, 803; review of the all'airs of,
34S ; Charles's schemes rcspocling, 330;
agitated by Heniy duke of Brunswick,
334; religious contentions in, 342 et seq. \
the emperor suspends his operations in,
866 ; dissatisfaction caused by the em-
peror's exactions and his brother Ferdi-
nand's encroachments, 380, 381 ; the Ger-
mans treated as a conquered people, 381,
3S2 ; reduced to submission by Charles,
892 ; state of parties in, 423, 424 ; in the
enjoyment of profound tranquillity, 455 ;
Ferdinand elected to the imperial dig-
nity, 490 ; general progress of, durinjr the
reign of Charles. 504; the Keformation
in, and its consequences, 589 et seq.; an-
cient state of society in, 591, 592 note ; pro-
gress of the feudal system in,598 note; pro-
gress of cities and municipal government
in, 610 note ; practice of private war in, 621
Tiote ; historical illustrations of the
power, jurisdiction, and revenue of the
empire, 653 et seq. note; ancient mode of
electing the emperors, 654, 655 et seq. ;
establishment of the imperial chamber,656

Ghent, the birthplace of Charles V., 87 ;
insurrection at, 289; the Ganteis offer
submission to France, 290; their pro-
posals rejected, ib. ; Charles V. takes
forcible possession of the city, and exacts
the severest vengeance, 292, 293; loses all
her municipal privileges and immunities,
ib.

Ghibelliu'^s, factions of the, 62, 6c sap-
ported by the Colonnas, 216
iron, Don Pedro de, general of the Casti-
lian junta. 169 ; his character and mis-
conduct, ib- ; his resignation, ib.

(Jolden Bull of Germany, 81

letta, a fort near Tunis, taken by Charles,
261

ez. Ruy, sent by Philip II. to his father,
at Yuste, 554

onsalvo de Cordova, styled "The Great
Captain," 62; his successes, 89
Sonza^, governor of Milan, 383, 384 ; aids
" in the murder of Peter Fai'nese, 384
onzalez MS., account of the discovery of
the, 517

Goslar, city defended by the elector of
Saxony, 320

G oths, take possession of Spain, 64 ; ex-
pelled by the Mooi's, ib. ; their horrible
cruelties, 5S7, 588 note

Gouffier, the plenipotentiary of Francis I.,
105.

Government, early improvement of, in
Europe, 9, 10

Grandees of Spain, their privileges, 287

Granvelle, bishop of An-as, prime minister
of Charles, 415, 416

Gravelines, defeat of the French at, 5S8

Gray, I-aUy Jane, executeii, 4*5

Greek and Roman authors, study of, 143

Gregory VII., Pope, his political assump-
tion, 78 ; his rupture with Henry IV. of
Germany, ib. ; historical illustrations of,
78, 653 note

Grievances, list of, against the papal see,
186, 187

Gropper, canon of Cologne, a manager of
the conference at the diet of "Worms, 302 ;
supposed author of a treatise intended
to reconcile the protestants and catho-
lics, ib.

Guasto, marquis del, defeated and taken
prisoner by Doria, 231 ; the military com-
mander against Tunis, 260; appointed
governor of Milan, 276; defeated and
wounded at the battle of Cerisoles, 323

Gueldres, the duke of Cleves renounces all
pretensions to the duchy of, 317

Guelphs and Ghibellines,thetwo great fac-
tions of, 62

Guicciardini, the historian, his account of
the sale of indulgences, 123 note; go-
vernor of Reggio, 155

Guise, Francis Lorrain duke of, appointed
to the command of the army for the de-
fence of Metz, 430 ; his heroic conduct,
430—433 ; his generosity to the sick and
wounded, 433 ; his bravery at Renti,
448; advises an alhance with Paul lY.,
464; commander of the French troops
against Philip II., 478, 479; enters Rome,
479 ; his operations in Italy, 480 ; in the
Low Countries, ib. ; recalled from Italy,
486; operations of the French army
under, 488, 492 ; invests Calais, 489; and
captures it with other places, 490

Guise, IMarv of, mai-ried to James V. of
Scotland, 283

Guisnes, captured by the duke of Guise,
489

Gusman, chancellor of the empire, 490

Guzman, Don Fadrique, an envoy from
Queen Joanna, 562

Hagueuau, diet held at, 302

Ham, besieged by Philip II., 485

Hames, captured by the duke of Guise, 489

Hanseatic league, formation of the, 36; a
powerful commercial confederacy, 639
note

Haro, Cond6 de, appointed to command the
forces against the junta, 169 ; effects a
junction of forces, 171; defeats Padilla,
and takes him prisoner. 172

Hascen-Aga, the governor of Algiers, his
piracies, 306 ; expedition planned by
Charles against him, 307 ; ho determines
to defend himself, 308 ; his troops fall on
the emperor's army when overwhelmed
by a great storm, ib. ; harasses the re-
treat of the remnant of theinvadinsr force,
309

Hayradin. (SL>a Barbarossa)

Heideck, Count, 407

Holdo, the vice-chancellor of Charles V.,
attends the pope's nuncio to Smalkalde

672

INJJBX.

Henry II., king of France, the political
advantages gained by him, 404 ; forms an
aUiance with Octavio Farnese of Parma,
ib.; he protests against the council of
Trent, 405; enters into a treaty with
Prince Maurice against Charles V., 412,
413; publishes a manifesto against the
emperor, in which he styles himself the
" Protector of the liberties of Germany,"
417 ; takes the field with a numerous
army, 418 ; captures Metz, and advances
towards Alsace, ib. ; invades Alsace, and
threatens Strasburg, 421; invades the
Low Countries, 424; inconsistency of his
conduct, 427; his precautions against
the designs of Charles, 430 ; is alarmed
at the English alliance, 447 ; carries on
his operations against Charles in the Low
Countries, ib. et seq.; Pope Paul IV.
proposes an alliance, 464; which is ac-
cepted, 465; negotiates a truce with
Philip, 471 ; persuaded by the pope's le-
gate to sign a new league with the pope,
474; his defensive measures after the
defeat at St. Quentin, 485; recalls the
French army in Italy, 486 ; endeavours,
but in vain, to gain the aid of Scotland,
491 ; marries the dauphin to the queen of
Scots, 491, 492; his troops defeated at
Gravelines, 492 ; he takes the field against
Philip, 493 ; enters into negotiations for
peace, ib. ; courts the friendship of Queen
Elizabeth, 499; agrees to articles of
peace, 501 ; his political views, ib. ; death
of, 502

Henry IV., emperor of Germany, his rup-
ture with Pope Gregory VII., 78 ; histori-
cal illustrations of the history of, 653
note

Henry IV. of Castile, tried by his nobles,
and ignominiously deposed, 66; a weak
and vicious prince, 71, 87, 88

Henry VII., king of England, detains
Philip and Joanna of Spain, 92

Henry VIII. of England, puts in his claim
for the German empire, 112; the great
advantages he possessed, 120, 121; his
character and policy, 121, 122; his fa-
vourite minister. Cardinal Wolsey, 122 ;
his reception of Charles V., 123 ; his in-
terview with Francis I. on the Field of
the Cloth of Gold, ib. ; writes an answer
to Luther, 148 ; receives the title of De-
fender of the Faith, ib. ; he favours
Charles against Francis I., 149 ; congress
of Calais held under his mediation, 153 ;
his policy, 153, 154; declares war against
France, 159 ; his interview with Charles,
160 ; his troops invade the country, ib. ;
his reckless profusion impoverishes the
nation, 182 ; his policy after the battle of
Pavia, 197, 198 ; concludes a treaty with
the regent of France, 200 ; forms an alli-
ance with Francis, 225 ; his motives, ib. ;
sues for a divorce from Catharine of Ara-
gon, 226; obtains a divorce through Arch-
bishop Cranmer, 249 ; and marries Anne
Boleyn, ib.; the papal see declares
against his divorce, ib. ; he abolishes the
papal power in England, 250 ; his capri-
cious persecutions, J 6.; he refuses to aid

Francis, 265 ; his friendship courted by
Charles, 311 ; his policy, 312 ; his nego-
tiations with Charles, 314; his rupture
with Scotland and France, 315, 316 ; sends
forces to Charles, 317 ; his resentment
against France, 322; besieges Boulogne,
325; compels its surrender, 329; con-
tinues at war with France, ib.

Henry of Saxony, elected emperor of Ger-
many, 77

Henry, duke of Brunswick, expelled from
his dominions, 320

Henry, duke of Saxony. (See Saxony)

Henry d'Albret, prince of Navarre, 151.
(See d'Albret)

Herman, count de Wied, archbishop of
Cologne, 332 ; his ecclesiastical reforms, ib.

Hesden, capture of, 438

Hesse, landgrave of, enters his protest
against the decree of the diet of Spires,
241; the emperor's negotiations with,
376; his submission, 378 ; is treacherously
detained as a prisoner, 379; exactions
and insults to which he is exposed, 379,
380 ; Charles refuses to liberate him, 388 ;
offers to comply with the "interim" of
Charles, in hopes of obtaining his liberty,
389, 390; his liberation attempted, 401 ;
demands of several princes of Germany
for his liberation, 414; remonstrances
against his unjust treatment, 415; re-
ceives his liberty, 416

Hesse, William, eldest son of the land-
grave, 413; a confederate with Maurice
against the emperor, 414

Hierarchy, Eomish. {See Clergy)

Holy Brotherhood, of Spain, 72

Holy League formed at Cognac against the
emperor, 213 ; its feeble operations, 215 ;
formation of the, 285

Horuc. {See Barbarossa)

Hungary, invaded by Solyman, who defeats
the Hungarians, and slays their king,
223 ; Archduke Ferdinand elected king of,
ib.; again invaded by Solyman, 246;
rapid progress of the Turks in, 304;
agreement of King John Zapol Scsepus
with his rival Ferdinand, concerning the
succession, ib. ; John marries, and breaks
the treaty, i6. ; invaded by the Germans,
304, 305; the kingdom seized by Soly-
man, 305 ; indifference of Charles to-
wards, 306; again invaded by Solyman,
and numerous places captured. 317 ; his-
tory of the revolution in, 410; Ferdi-
nand's pretensions to, 411; is elected
king, on the resignation of the young
sovereign, ib. ; at war with France, 42:^ ,
Prince Maurice mai'chcs against the
Turks in, 428; the emperor's losses in,
439

Huns, their irruptions and horrible cruel-
ties, 589 note

Huss, John, the reformer of Bohemia,
136, 381

I.

Immunities of the clergy, 139
Imperial chamber of Germany, instituted
by Maximilian. 79, 81 G56 note ; bound by

INDEX.

673

the treaty of Passau to administer equal
justice, 427 ; its jurisdiction, 056, 657 note

Indulgence.-^, papal sale of, granted liy tlie
papal see, 125 ; by IjCO X- ib. ; chief cause
of the Rcforniation, 126 et seq. ; the ex-
travagant pretensions of Tetzel, 125 ; the
impudent sale of, raises up Luther and
otner active reformers, 126 et seq.; his-
torical notices respecting the sale of, 128,
129 note

Infallibility of the popes asserted, 460

Infantado, duke of, his haughty bearing
towards the emperor, 288

Infantrj-.the superior importance of, taught
by the Swiss, 50, 51 ; national infantry es-
tablished in Germany, France, and Spain,
51

Injuries, redress of, 19, 20 ; historical no-
tices of, 555 et seq. note

Innocent, a favourite of Julius III., created
cardinal, 395

Inspruck, residence of the emperor at, 417 ;
Maurice's advance to, 418 ; the emperor's
flight from, 419; captured by Maurice, ib.

" Interim," the system of doctrine pre-
pared by the emperor, 387; compliance
with enforced, 388 ; strong opposition to
the, 388, 392 ; many cities and towns com-
pelled to submit to it, 391

Isabella of Castile, 88 ; wife of Ferdinand
king of Aragon, and queen of Spain, 88,
89; her death, 89; her last will, ib.

Isabella, daughter of Emanuel king of Por-
tugal, married to Charles V., 207

Isabella, queen-dowager of Hungary, or-
dered to invade France, 288

Isabella, queen of Hungary, appointed re-
gent jointly with Martinuzzi, 410 ; courts
the Turks for aid against her co-regent,
Martinuzzi, ib.; is compelled to renounce
in favour of Ferdinand, 411 ; retires with
her son into Silesia, ib.; returns with her
son, and is supported by the nobility and
the Porte against Ferdinand, 439 ; gains
possession of Transylvania, ib.

Italy, cities of, first turn their attention
towards commerce, 35, 36 ; invaded by
Charles VIII., 48 ; balance of power the
great object of policy in, 50; wars in, ren-
dered standing armies necessary in, ib. ;
Swiss first emi)loyed in, ib. ; wars of, oc-
casion an increase of the public revenue,
51, 52 ; the French driven from, 53; state
of, in the sixteenth century, 55 ; the infe-
rior states of— Genoa, Parma, and Mo-
dena, 64; war in, 212; administration/of
Francis in, i6.; her efforts against France,
183; the French expelled from, 184;
views of the Italian states respecting
Charles and Francis, 189; invaded by
Francis, 191 ; battle of Pavia, and the im-
portant results (see Francis and Pavia) ;
effects of victory on the states of, 198;
feeble operations of the confederates in,
215; the imperial army reinforced in,
217 ; invaded by Bourbon, 218 ; invaded by
France, and several places captured, 227 ;
the French operations in, ib.; evacuated
by the French, and the emperor trium-

{)hant in, 233; visited by Charles, 238;
eague with the Italian states formed by

Charles, 248 ; visited by the emperor, 306;
Baibarossa's descenton, ifi.; the emperor's
losses in, 433. 4:54, 4:5S, 439; desolate state
of, during the irruptions of the barba-
rians, 529 note ; the various revolutions
of property in, 597, 598 note; historical
illustrations of, 606 note ; early commerce
of, 637 note

James V. of Scotland, 283; marries 3Iagda-
len, daughter of Francis I., ib.; his second
wife, Mary of Guise, ib.

Janizaries, established by Amruth, the
Turkish sultan, 84; their military quali-
ties, 84, 85; historical \llustrations of the,
659 note

Jerome of Prague, the reformer, 381

Jesuits, establishment of the, by Ignatius
Loyola, 151, 294; the constitution and
policy of the order, ib. ; their objects,
295; great power of their general, 296;
their system of espionage, ib. ; their rapid
extension. 297, 298 note; their great
wealth, 297, 298 ; their pernicious effect
on civil society, 29S, 299 ; advantajc'cs re-
sulting from them, 299; character of,
given by D'Alembert, ib. note; their esta,-
blishment in Paraguay, ib ; their ambi-
tion and policy, 300 ; opposed by Charles
v., 301 ; secrecy of their rules, 'ib. ; their
general maxims and purity of manners,
301, 302

Joanna, daughter of Ferdinand and Isa-
bella of Spain, and mother of Cliarlos V.,
87, 88 ; heiress to the crown, 88 ; her mar-
riage to Philip, archduke of Austria, ib, ;
her mental imbecility, ib. ; gives birth to
Ferdinand, ib. ; she and her husband
proclaimed king and queen of Castile,
92 ; her extreme grief at the death of her
husband, 93,94; gives birth to Princess
Catherine, z6. ; her total incapacity, i6. ;
her residence at Tordesillas, after the
death of her husband, 164 ; accepts the
proffered sovereignty of Castile, 165; re-
lapses into her wonted imbecility, ib ;
the government of Castile carried on in
her name, ib.

Joanna, tin; reputed daughter of Henry IV.
of Castile, demanded in marriage by Fer-
dinand of Aragon, 91

Joanna, daughter of Charles V., receives
directions from Philip as to the recep-
tion of her father, 523, 524; wishes to
make claim to the regency of Portugal,
562; but is prevented by Charles, ib.;
claims her father's personal effects, 582

John II. of Castile, 88

John III. king of Portugal, advances mo-
ney toCharles, 313; contracts a marriage
between his daughter Mary and Philip of
Spain, i6.; his death, 562

John, Don, son of Ferdinand of Spain,
death of, 88

John, Don, of Austria, his education under
Qui.\ada. 525; his visit to his father,
Charles V., 575; the emperor commends
him to the care of Philip II., 578 ; Philip
recognizes him, 583
X

674

INDEX.

John Zapol Scaepus, acquires part of Hun-
gj^ry by the aid of Solyman, 304 ; makes
an agreement witli liis rival, Ferdinand,
ib. ; marries, and breaks his agreement,
ib. ; appoints Martinuzzi guardian of his
son, and regent, ib. ; his death, ib.

Judicial combat, 22 ; its prevalence, 24 ; ex-
pedients for its abolition, ib. ; historical
illustrations of, 621 et seq. note; trial by,
established in every country in Europe,
623, 624 note

Julius II., Pope, his influence, 52, 53 ; his
policy, 54—56; his reckless ambition, 136

Julius 111., his election to the pontificate,
305 ; creates Innocent a cardinal, ib. ; his
indecorous conduct, ib. ; calls a new
council at Trent, 396 ; becomes hostile to
Octavio Farnese, 404 ; with the emperor's
co-operation he sends forces against him,
404, 405 ; death of, 457

Jurisdiction, ancient, 28, 29; historical il-
lustrations of, 624 et seq. note; 629 et seq.

Jurisprudence, historical illustrations of,
624 et seq. note ; 629 et seq.

Justice, the commencement of a regular
administration of, 19, 20 ; administration
of, in the feudal age, 31. {See Trial by
Combat, and Ordeals)

Justinian, Pandects of, state of Europe at
the time of their discovery, 30 ; historical
illustrations of, 631, 632 note

Justiza, or supreme judge of Aragon, 68 ;
historical illustrations of the, 639, 640 note

K.

Knighthood, reh'gious, several orders found-
ed during the frenzy of the crusades, 211 ;
the Teutonic order in Germany, 212

L.

La Chau, a Flemish gentleman, added to
the regency of Castile, 103

La Forest, the French agent at tlie Ottoman
Porte, 279

Land, tenure of, under the feudal system.
(See Feudal System)

Lande, M. de la, 325

Landrecy, captured by Francis, 316; be-
sieged, 317

Lannoy, Charles de, viceroy of Naples, his
service in tlie imperial armies, 178; mort-
gages the revenues of Naples, 192; re-
ceives tlie sword of Francis, 195; and
commits him to the castle of Pizzichitone,
196 ; appointed special ambassador to
Francis, 214; enters Rome, 226

Lanuza, Don John de, appointed viceroy of
Aragon, 118; preserves tranquilhty in
Aragon, 175

Lautrec, Odet de Foix, mareschal de, the
French governor of Milan, 154 ; his
haughty disposition, 155 ; invests Reggio,
Ijut is repulsed, ib. ; requests troops and
money from France, ib.; but is disap-
pointed, ib.; obliged to evacuate Milan,
157; repulsed from Milan, ib.; attempts
to reconquer the Milanese, 158 ; miscon- !

duct of his Swiss troops, 158 ; retires into
France, 159; receives Francis on his re-
turn to Fi-ance, 207 ; captures Genoa and
several other places in Italy, 227 ; marches
on Naples, 230 ; his death, 233

Lavagna, count of. (See Fiesco)

Law. (See Pandects of Justinian, and Canon
Law)

Laynez, the successor of Loyola, as general
of the Jesuits, 295

Le Chevalier Diliberi, a poem, 542

Learning, revival of, 32, 33 ; progress of,S4;
revival of, in the fifteenth and sixt^eenth
centuries, 143, 144 ; historical illustrations
of, 515 note

Legal proceedings, form of, fixed, 31

Leo X. his policy as to the rival aspirants,
Charles and Francis, for the German
empire, 112, 113, 120; his extravagance,
125 ; allows the sale of indulgences, ib. ;
Luther's submissive letter to, 130; ex-
communicates Luther, 132 ; his difficulties
with the reformers, 135 ; his endeavours
to excite discord between the emperor
and Francis I., 149; his treaty with
Charles, 149, 150; declares war against
Francis, and attacks the Milanese, 155;
death of, 157

Leonard, a Franciscan, his plot to deliver
Metz to the emperor, 453; the plot is dis-
covered and frustrated, ib.; he is con-
demned to death, 455 ; but is slain by his
own brethren, ib.

L'Esparre, Andrew de Foix, general of the
French forces in the conquest of Navarre,
151 ; defeated and taken prisoner, ib.

Levesque. Dom, his account of the motives
that induced Chai-les V. to abdicate, 467
note

Lewis IL king of Hungary, defeated and
slain by Solyman, 223; the last of the
royal family of Jagelion, ib.

Leyva, Antonio de, gehei'al of Charles V.,
his skill and bravery, 202 ; arrests Morone,
the Chancellor of Milan, 203 ; takes the
count of St. Pol prisoner, 234; generalis-
simo of the Italian league, 247 ; com-
mander of the imperialists in the invasion
of France, 272 ; his death, 275

Lintz, negotiations at, between Prince
Maiu'ice and Ferdinand, 418

Literature, eflfects of the feudal system on, 9

Logrogno, gallant defence of, 151

Lombards established in Italy, 5 ; practice
of private war among the, 620, 621 note

Lombardy, the theatre of war, 154

Lorrain, Cardinal, negotiates an alliance
with the pope, 465 ; his haughty bearing,
494; his submission, 495

Louis XL of France, naturally a tyrant, 4(3 ;
his measures for humbling the nobility,
44; his pohcy, 44, 45; his perfidy to-
wards Mary of Burgundy, 47, 48

Louis XII. driven from Italy, 53 ; his su-
perstitious fear of making war on the
pope, 59 note

Louise of Savoy, mother of Francis I., cha-
racter of, 155; her dislike to the duke of
Bourbon, 179; her amorous passion for
him, ib. ; her revenge for his indifference,
ib. ; her prudent conduct after the battle

INDEX.

075

of Pavia, 196; concludes a treaty with
Henry VIII., 200; negotiates for peace
with Marparet of Austria, 2'55

Low Countries, hostilities in the, 152; the
French campaign in, under Francis, 316 ;
military operations in the, 324; Charles's
visit to the, 392; hostilities in the, 438.
(.See Netherlands and Ghent)

Loyola, Ignatius, causes of his devotion to
the Church, and establishment of the
order of Jesus, 151 ; his enthusiasm and
fanaticism, 294. (See Jesuits)

Luther, Martin, the great reformer, 126;
his birth and parentage, ib. inveighs
against 'the sale of indulgences, 127 ; nis
opponents, 128, 129; is summoned to
Rome, 129 ; appears before the papal
legate. Cardinal Cajetan, ISO ; appeals to
a general council, 132; is excommuni-
cated, 133; liis various contentions and
persevering spirit. 134 et seq. ; his know-
ledge of ancient litei'ature, 143 ; his con-
nection with Erasmus, 144, 145; his re-
ception at the diet of Worms, 145 ; his
seizure and concealment by the elector of
Saxony, 147 ; progress of his opinions, ib. ;
the opposition they called forth, 147, 148
{see Reformation) ; his confinement at
"Wartburg, 184 ; translates the Bible, i*. ;
his prudent conduct, 210 ; marries Catha-
rine ^ Boria, ib. ; dissensions between the
pope and emperor favourable to his doc-
trines, 223, 224; their continued spread,
240; his inflexibility at the diet of AYorms,
303; death of, 338; his character, 338—
340

Luxembourg, invaded by Robert de la
Mark, 152 ; by the duke of Orleans, 312

M.

Madrid, treaty of, for liberation of Francis,

205 ; its hard conditions, 206 ; Francis

absolved by the pope from the treaty of,

213

agdalen, daughter of Francis, married to

James V. of Scotland, 183
Magdeburg, war made upon, .399 ; siege of,

406 ; surrenders to Prince ^Maurice, 407
Mahmet, the Turkish general, defeats the

Germans, 279
Mnjesty, the title first adopted by Charles

v., 116
Majorca, rebellion in, 175
Maldonada, Don Francis, commander of

the insurgent forces of Salamanca, 172 ;

taken prisoner and executed, ib.
Malta granted to the knights of St. John,

175
Malvenda, the Spanish divine, 337
Manfred of Naples, 61
Mansfeldt, Albert, count, commander of

Magdeburg, 407
Mantua. Paul III. proposes a general coun-
cil to be held at, 257
Manuel, Don John, 91, 92; declares for

Maximilian as regent of Castile, 91
Marcellus IL, Pope, character of, 461; his

death, ib.
Margaret of Austria, negotiates for peace i

with Louise, the mother of Francis, 235 ;
betrothed to Octavio Farnese, 281

Mariemburg, surrender of, 447

Marignano.Medecino, marquis of, appointed
to command the Florentnie army against
Siena, 4-19 ; defeats Strozzi, 451 ; and takes
Siena, 452

Mark, Robert de la. (See Robtvt)

Martial spirit of Europe. 286; its results, 287

Martinuzzi, George, bishop of Waradin, ap-
pointed by King John of Hungary guar-
dian of his son, and regent in conjunction
with the queen, 304 ; refuses to give up
the kingdom to Ferdi and, and applies
to Solyman for aid, 304,'. 5; defends
Buda, 305; deceived by the Sultan, i6.;
appointed tutor of the young king, and
regent of Hungary, jointly with Queen
Isabella, 410; he invites Ferdinand of
Austria to lay claim to the kingdom, ib. ;
compels Isabella to renounce in favour of
Ferdinand, 411 ; is appointed governor of
Transylvania, ib. ; Ferdinand, jealous of
his talents and influence, procures his
assassination, 411, 412

Mary, queen of England, her marriage to
Philip of Spain, 443—445; the marriage
treaty, 444; universal discontent at the
marriage, 445 ; her efforts to extirpate the
protestant religion, 446 ; her atrocities,
ib.; induced by Philip to declare war
against France, 4S1; her rage at the loss
of Calais, 490; death of, 498

Mary, queen of Scots, married to the dau-
phin of France, 492

Mary of Guise, 283

Mary, queen dowager of Hungary, resigns
the regency of the Netherlands, 470;
pays a visit to her brother, the emperor,
at Yuste, 564; makes a second visit to
the emperor, 568 ; takes up her abode at
Valladolid, ib. ; her death, ib.

Mary, the infanta of Portugal, her meeting
with her mother, at Badajoz, 565; her
death, 567

Mathys, Dr., the physician of Charles V ,
571

Matthias, John, the Anabaptist prophet.
251 ; governs Munster, 252 ; vanquishes
the bishop in battle, 253 ; is slain, ib. ; is
succeeded by John Boccold, 254

Maurice, duke of Saxony, succeeds to the
government, 318 ; general notices of, ib. ;
his political and reUgious views, 319 ; a
friend of the emperor, ib. ; his conduct
in favour of the emperor, 332; his in-
sidious schemes, 354 ; his league with the
emperor, ib.\ his artifices, 355; his in-
vasion of Saxony, 356; overruns Misnia,
and strips his rival of all that belonged to
him, 359 ; his difficult position, ib. ; in-
tercedes for the life of the elector of
Saxony, 375 ; takes possession of the
electorate of Saxony, 376 ; acts as media-
tor between the emperor and the land-
grave of Hesse, 377 et seq. ; remonstrates
with the emperor against the landgrave's
imprisonment, 379; his importunities in-
sultingly repulsed, 379, 380 ; invested with
the electoral dignity of Saxony, 3S8;
becomes the most powerful prince in

67o

INDEX.

Germany, 397 ; his ambitious schemes
against the emperor, ib. et seq.; his general
movements, 398; he enforces the "in-
terim," 399 ; his proceedings against the
council of Trent, ib. ; intrusted with the
command of the army, 400 ; Magdeburg
surrendered to, 408 ; of which he is elected
burgrave, ib. ; liis success at Magdeburg,
ib. ; his expedient for keeping up an
array, 408, 409 ; his duplicity towards
Charles, 409 ; his intrigues and prepara-
tions for revolt against the emperor, 412,
413 ; courts the protection of the French
king, ib. ; his treaty with Henry II., 413 ;
he demands to set at liberty the land-
grave of Hesse, 414 ; his continued arti-
fices excite the emperor's suspicions, 414,
415; contrives to deceive the emperor,
416; he publishes a manifesto justifying
his conduct, and stating his reasons for
taking arms, ib ; supported by a mani-
festo of Henry II., 417; his ra{)id move-
ments, ib, ; takes possession of Augsburg,
ib. ; excites the astonishment of the em-
peror, ib. ; assisted by the French army,
417, 418; captures the castle of Ehren-
berg, 419; causes the flight of the em-
peror, ib.; enters Inspruck, ib.\ nego-
tiates for peace, but again takes the field,
425; on the emperor's abating his de-
mands, he agrees to sign the treaty of
Piissau, annulling all the powers and re-
gulations of the emperor, 426 ; marches
against the Turks in Hungary, 428; en-
ters into a confederacy against Albert of
Erandenburg, 435, 436; defeats Albert,
436 ; but is slain in battle, 437 ; succeeded
by his brother Augustus, 438

Maximihan, emperor of Germany, 79; in-
stitutes the imperial chamber, 79, 80 ;
gives a new form to the Aulic council,
80; claims the regency of Castile, 94;
regent of the Low Countries, 96; his
death, 110

Mecklenburg, George of, brother of the
reigning duke, 406 ; his attacks on Mag-
deburg, ib. ; taken prisoner, 407 ; his
troops in Thuringia, 415; captures the
castle of Ehrenberg, 419

Medici, family of the, 60 ; their great wealth
and influence, ib.; their authority re-
stored by Charles, 239 ; opposed by the
Florentines, ib.; their greatness in the
republic of Florence, 513

Medici, Alexander de, 281 ; assassinated, ib.

Medici, Lorenzo de, assassinates his cousin,
281; aims at the dukedom, 282

Medici, Cosmo de, raised to supreme power
at Florence, 282; advances money to
Charles V., and obtains the citadels of
Florence and Leghorn, 314; his schemes
against the French, 448; proposes to the
emperor to drive the French out of
Siena, 449 ; his preparations, i6. ; appoints
Medicino general, ib. ; who defeats the
French under Strozzi, 451 ; and takes
Siena, 452; his intrigues for obtaining
Siena, 487 ; obtains possession, ib.

Medici, Julio cardinal de, a candidate for
the popedom, 157; raised to the papal
chair under the name of Clement VI J ., 181

Medicino. (See Marignano)

Medina del Campo, destruction of, by Fon-
seca, 163

Melancthon, an early supporter of the Re-
formation, 134 ; a proficient in the polite
arts, 143; draws up the "Confession of
Augsburg," 242 ; invited to Paris by Fran-
cis I., 265 , not permitted to risk his life
there, 266 ; a manager of the conference
at the diet of "Worms, 302

Memmingen, tine imposed upon, 358

Mendoza, Don Diego de, cond6 de Melitc.
appointed viceroy of Valencia, 118 ; com-
mander of Siena, 434 ; loses the city by
his ill conduct, ib.

Mennonites, a sect of the Anabaptists, 255

Merveille, a Milanese, sent by Francis I. to
Milan, 264 ; is slain. 265

Metafuz, the rendezvous of Charles's army
when escaping from Algiers, 309

Metz, captured by the French, 418 ; be-
sieged by Charles, 431; gallantly defended
by the duke of Guise, 432 ; Charles raises
the siege of, 433 ; conspiracy for betray-
ing, 453 ; its discovery, and punishment
of the traitors, 454, 455

Mezi^res, siege of, 153

Middle Ages, ignorance of the, 33

Migliau, death of, 59 note

Mignet, M., author of a work upon Charles
v., 518, 519

Milan, duchy of ; disputes respecting the
right of succession to, 63 ; a republican
form of government established in, ib. ;
(see Sforza and Visconti) ; government of,
committed to Odet de Foix, 154; the Mi-
lanese disgusted with the French govern-
ment, ib. ; hostilities against, 155 ; con-
quest of, 156, 157; Admiral Bonnivet's
fruitless attack on, 180, 181; imperial
army at, 183 ; Morone's proposals to Pes-
cara respecting the seizure of, 202; duchy
of, offered to Bourbon, 204; closely in-
vested, 217 ; investiture of the duchy of,
conferred on Sforza, 239; claimed by
Francis I., 269; disputed by the emperor,
272; the French ambassador's demand
respecting the investiture of, 292 ; the de-
mand rejected, 293

Milanese, conquered by the imperialists,
156 ; war renewed in the, 158 ; their re-
sistance to the French, 183 ; compel them
to abandon the territory, 184

Military innovations in Italy, 50

Military orders, 71; historical illustrations
of, 644, 645 note

Military subsidies, 51, 52

Monarchs of Europe, limitation of their
power, 38; their limited revenues, ib.;
encouraged in France to extend their
prerogative, 42; their limited authority
in Spain, 69. 70 ; and measures for ex-
tending their prerogative, 71 ; historical
illustrations of the early state of, in
France, 646 et seq. note ; 649 et seq.

Monastic education, tends to contract and
fetter the mind, 298, 299

j\Ionastic orders, primary object of the, 295

Moiicada, Don Hugo de, imperial anibas-
j sador at Rome, 216; imposes conditions
1 on the pope, ib.

INDEX.

677

.^iouluc, his energetic speech in the council

of Francis, 323; commander of the trench

^'arrison at Siena, 45\ , , ^ ^, ,

]M6nte, cardinal di. elected to the papal

throne as Julius IIL, 395 , ^ .
Montecuculi. count de, accused of poisonnig

the dauphin of France, 276
Montfort of Savoy, the defender of J<ice,

317
Montmorency, Mareschal, constable of
France, intrusted with the niihtary p ans
of Francis I., 273. 274; his skill and bra-
very, J6.; defeats Charles V.,275; honoured
with the constable's sword, 278 ; ad;ases
Francis not to comply with the proflered
submission of the Gantois, 290; dis-
jrraced, 312; his opposition to an alli-
ance with PaulIV,, 464; is defeated at
St. Quintin, and taken prisoner, 48o ; his
intrigues, 494, 495; his elevation j_ 496
Montpezat, governor of Possano, 273
IVIontreuil, siege of. 329 ^ . „, ,

Aloors take possession of Spain, 64; expei
the Goths, ib. ; their divisions, and expul-
sion from Spain, 65 , . ^, .
:Horals improvement of, during the reign
' of Charles Y., 511, 512
Morocco, kingdom of, 257
Morone, Jerome, vice-chancellor of Milan,
154 ; his intriguing policy, ib. ; detends
Milan, 181 ; his restless and intnguing
genius, 201; his negotiations with Pes-
cara, 201, 202; is betrayed by Pescara,
202, 203 ; his hfe and liberty granted by
Eourbon, 217; insinuates himself into the
confidence of Bourbon, ib.
Morone, Cardinal, the pope's nuncio at the

diet of Augsburg, 456 .

Muley-Hascen, king of Tunis, 2.^9; over-
thrown bv Barbarossa, 260; makes a
treaty with Charles to restore him to the
throne, ib.; success of the expedition,
262, 26;i; his treaty with Charles for the
suppression of pirncy and the liberation
of Christian slaves, 263
Mulhausen, battle of 373
Muncer, Thomas, a di<ciple of Luther, 209 ;
his fanatical tenets, 210 , stirs up a revolt,
ib. : his defeat and capture, 211 ; his exe-
cution, i6. . ^ ,,. 1 i. «.
Municinal institutions, establishment of,
14, 15"; growth of, 15 et seq. ; historical
illustrations of the growth of. 607 et$tq.
note : 610 et seq. , , ^r. 4
Munster, seized and governed by the Ana-
baptists under Matthias, 252; afterwards
by John of Leyden, 253; retaken by an
army under the bishop, 255
Murder, clerical con»i>osition for, 138
Mustapha, the favourite son of Solyraan,
440; ruined and slain by the machina-
tions of Roxalana, the mistress of ^oly-
man, 441, 442 ; lamentations for his death,
443

Naples, seized by Charles VIII, of France,
49: constitution of the kingdom of, 61;
the most turbulent in Europe, t6.; con-

testa respecting the succession to the
crown of, 62; pretensions of the French
and Spanish monarchs to, ib.; relieved
bv Andrew Doria, 33 ; siigc of, raised, ib. ;
descent of the Turks upon, 435
Nassau, count of, commander of the Spa-
nish forces against Robert de la Mark,
152
Navarre, John d'Albret. expelled from the
throne of, 95 (see d'Albret); successful
war in, carried on by Ximenes, 104 ; hos-
tilities in, 151; conquered by its fonner
monarch, John d'Albret, i6.; repossessed
by the Spaniards. 152 ; the unquiet con-
science of Cliarles concerning the pos-
session of, 558 ; negotiations with Yen-
dome concerning, 559

Netherlands, trade and manufactures esta-
blished in, 37 ; visited by Charles Y., 124 ;
dissatisfaction in the, 288-290 ; Charles's
journey to the. 289—292; hostilities in
the, 292, 293 ; Charles's successes in the,
ib. (See Low Countries)

Nice, truce at, 286; besieged by Barbarossa
and the French. 317

Nobility, supreme jurisdiction of the, 26,
27; attempts to limit it, 28; of Spain,
their power abridged, 71, 72; of France,
their number and importance, 75, 76

Novon, treaty of, between Francis I. and
Charles V., 105

Nuremberg, die; of, 185 ; list of grievances
at, 186 ; injunction of the, 187

Odet de Foix. (See Lautrec) .

Oran, defeat of the Spanish troops near, 577

Orange, princes of, their origin and descent,

239." {See Chalons, Philibert de)
Ordeals, 22 ; historical illustrations of, 622

et seq. note
Orleans, duke of, takes the field under

Francis, 312 ; his death. 333
Otho the Great, emperor of Germany, 77 ;

his victorious career and extensive power,

J*.
Othos, of Germany, the imperial family of,

77
Ottoman Porte, history of the, 83 et teq.

(See Turkish Empire)

P.

Pacheco. Donna Maria, wife of Padilla her
expedient to provide money for her hus-
band's armv, 170; her defence of Toledo,
173; her defeat and flight. 174

Padilla, Don John, leader of the rebellion
in Castile, 1G2; aids Segovia, ib.; takes
possession of Qu.'cu Joanna, 165 ; endea-
vours unsuccessfully to induce her to re-
sume her authority, I'A.; seizes the seals
and archives, ib ; superseded as general
by Don Pedro de Giron, 168 ; re-appointed,
ib. ; his wife strips the cathedral of To-
ledo to obtain money for the insui^ent
army, 170 ; he captures Torretobaton, 171 :
defeated and taken prisoner at Villalar

678

INDEX.

and executed, 172 ; his letter to his wife
before his execution, 172 note; his letter
to the city of Toledo, 173

Palatinate, progress of the Reformation in
the, 334

Pallavicini, the Jesuit, author of a history
of the Council of Trent, 421

Pandects of Justinian, discovery of the, 30 ;
historical illustrations of, 163 note

Papal church, its assumed right of con-
ferring benefices, 141 ; its venality, 142 ;
list of the various abuses and grievances
of the, 186. (-See Church)

Papal power, the highest in Europe, 55, 56 ;
its secular dominion extremely limited,
56 ; often disputed by the Roman barons
and people, 57 ; genius of the, ib. ; its de-
fects, 58. (See Popes)

Paraguay, establishment of the Jesuits in,
299

Paris, university of, condemns the opinions
of Luther, 147; threatened by Charles,
326

Paris, parliament of, 76; historical illus-
trations of the, 651 et seq. note; deprives
Charles V. of Flanders and Artois, 277

Parma, duchy of, retained by Octavio Par-
nese, 404 ; siege of, 405 ; the besiegers re-
pelled, ib.

Passau, peace conferences held at, between
Ferdinand and Prince Maurice and other
German princes, 422, 423 ; treaty of, 426,
427 ; reflections on the treaty of, ib.

Patrician, the magisterial office in Rome,
56

Paul, Father, of Venice, a philosopher and
scholar, 299 note; author of a history of
the council Of Trent, 421

Paul III., Pope, 250 ; his opposition to the
Reformation, 256, 257; proposes to as-
semble a general council at Mantua, ib. ;
negotiates a peace between Francis I.
and Charles v., 280; his natural daughter,
]\Iargaret of Austria, betrothed to Octavio
Farnese, 281; his endeavours to form a
general council on religion, 284 ; his offers
to Charles rejected, 314 ; proposes a coun-
cil at Trent, 319; incensed against Charles,
328 ; gives his son the duchies of Parma
and Placentia, 333; his treaty with the
emperor, 344; he divulges the meditated
plan of the emperor against the protes-
tants, 345 ; his army takes the field against
the confederated protestants, 349, 350;
recals his troops, 359; looks upon the em-

Eeror as an enemy, 383 ; his intrigues, ib. ;
is indignation at the murder of his son,
384; his quarrel with Charles, ib.; dis-
solves the general council, 392 ; his
schemes against the emperor, 393; his
death, 394 ; causes which led to his death,
ib. note
Paul IV., Pope, his rise and character, 461,
462; ambitious schemes of his nephews,
463; prevailed upon to ask the protection
of Prance, ib. ; proposes to Henry of
France an alliance, 464 ; his rage at the
toleration allowed in Germany, 465; I
threatens the emperor, ib- ; signs the I
treaty with Henry, 466; his astonish-
ment at the truce between Henry and [

Philip, 471 ; his dread of Philip's venge^
ance, 472 ; his ambassador, Caraffa, en-
deavours secretly to (ietach Henry from
the agreement, ib. ; in which he suc-
ceeds, 474; his hostile demonstrations
towards Philip, ib. ; Philip makes war
on, 475 ; a truce, ib. ; renewed hostilities,
479 ; his reckless conduct, ib. ; receives
aid from the French, ib. ; his insufficient
preparations, 480; makes peace with
Philip, 486; his arrogant conduct, ib.;
his haughty claims as to the confirma-
tion of the emperor of Germany, 490 ;
agrees to the general pacification between
England, France, Spain, &c., 502; death
of, 503 ; disgrace and punishment of his
miscreant nephews, ib. ; the victorious
progress of the duke of Alva induces him
to make a treaty with Philip, 559, 560
Paul Jovius, the historian, 272
Paulin, envoy of Francis I., 315, 317
Pavia, besieged by Francis, 192; its gallant
defence, 193; battle of, between Francis
and Charles. 194, 195; the French de-
feated and Francis taken prisoner, 195;
effects of the victory, 196 [see Francis I.) ;
taken by assault, 227
Pays de Vaud, conquered by the canton of

Berne, 268
Peasantry, emancipation of the, from feudal
servitude, 18 ; of Suabia and of Saxony,
their rebellion and defeat, 208, 209, 216,
211
Pembroke, earl of, commander of the Bri-
tish troops against the French, 481
Pennalosa, Commendador, 196
Perpignan, capital of Rousillon, besieged,

313
Pescara, marquis de, takes Milan from the
French, 156 ; commander at Milan against
the FYench, 183; invades France, and
lays siege to Marseilles, 190 ; his gallant
address to his troops, 192; his great ef-
forts at Pavia, 198 ; his negotiations with
Morone, chancellor of Milan, 201,202; he
betrays Morone, 202; death of, 204
Peter, king of Aragon, 62
Pflug, a manager of the conference at the

diet of Worms, 302
Philip, archduke of Austria, and father of
Charles V., 88 ; married to Joanna of
Spain, ib. ; endeavours to obtain the go-
vernment of Castile, 90; requires Fer-
dinand to resign the regency, 91; his
treaty with Ferdinand, 92 ; the nobles of
Castile declare in his favour, ib. ; he and
his wife Joanna acknowledged as king
and queen by the cortes, 93; his death,
ib. ; note respecting his last will as to the
education of Charles V., 97
Philip Maria, the last prince of the ducal

family of Visconti, 63
Philip II. of Spain, son of Charles V.,
affianced to the daughter of John, king of
Portugal, and recognized as the heir of
Aragon and Valencia, 313 ; visits his
father, Charles, in the Low Countries,
392; his haughty and unconciliating dis-
position, 403 ; aislikcd by the Germans,
ib. ; his marriage to Marj% queen of Enjj-
land, 444 ; the marriage treaty, tb. ; his

INDEX.

landing in England, 446; menaces of
Paul IV. ajrainst, 405 ; receives the crown
of Spain from his father, 469, 470 ; nego-
tiates a truce with Henry II., 471, 472 ;
which is broken by Paul IV., 474; the
pope's violent hostility to, ib.; makes war
onthopaitnl territories, i6. ; enters into
a truce, 475; Clnirles's scheme for se-
curing his succession to the imperial
crown, 476; the pope renews hostilities
with him, 479 ; at war with France, ib. ;
carries the war into the Low Countries,
480 ; induces Mary of England to declare
war against France, 481; his cautious
policy, 483; besieges Ham and Chatelet,
4S5 ; makes peace with the pope, 486; his
tenacity of his rights, 488; his conces-
sions to the dukes of Parma and Tus-
cany, ib.; exhaustion of his forces, 492;
takes the field against Henry II., 493 ;
disposed to peace, ib. ; courts the friend-
ship of Queen Elizabeth, 499; agrees to
articles of peace. 501 ; his political views,
ib.; his endeavours to have his father
properly received upon his arrival in
Spain, 523, 524; the state of his affairs
when his father, Charles, took up his
abode at Yuste, 553; the French
army attacks Naples, 554; Solyman
threatens the Mediterranean coast, ib. ;
sends Riiy Gomez to ask advice of
Charles, ib. ; Charles promises to assist
Philip in raising funds, i6.; the bullion
removed from the royal exchequer by
collusion, 555; Charles sends him con-
gratulations on the victory of St. Quintin,
555, 556 ; his inattention to writing to his
father, 558 ; his general, the duke of Alva,
makes victorious progress towards Rome,
559 ; he makes a treaty with the pope,
ib, ; his unwillingness that the emperor's
autobiography should appear in public,
563, 564; recognises Don John as the em-
peror's son, 578; celebrates his father's
obsequies at Brussels, 583 ; visits Yuste
584 ; gathers the remains of his kindi'ed
at the Escorial, ib.

Philippino, nephew of Andrew Doria, de-
feats the Spanish galleys, 231

Phlug, Caspar, the Bohemian patriot, 381

Piadena. {See CastaUlo)

Pichot, Amed6e, author of " Chronique de
Charles-Quint," 518

Piedmont, menaced by Charles V., 273 ; war
in, continued, 278 ; operations of the im-
periaUsts in, 452 et seq.

Pistorius, a manager of the conference at
the diet of Worms, 302

Placentia, captured by the imperialists, 384

Poland, at war with the princes of Bran-
denberg, 312 ; loses Prussia, ib.

Pole, Cardinal, made legate to England,
414; his endeavoms to make peace be-
tween the emperor and the French, 455

popery, doctrines of, repugnant to the
spirit of Christianity, 145

Popes of Rome, become powerful temporal
princes, 57 ; union of their spiritual and
temporal authority, 58; assume a juris-
diction superior to the emperor's, 77, 78 ;
their infallibility asserted, 460; their

policy since the Reformation, 510, 511 ;
their improvement in morals, 512. (/See
Papal power)

Prerogative, royal, in France, 43; in Eng-
land, 4'i, 45; limited in Spain, 69, 70;
extended by Ferdinand and Isabella, 7l

Prierias, a Dominican friar, endeavours to
refute Luther, 128

Progress, social and intellectual, of Europe,
25,26

Property, the various revolutions of, ia
France and Italy, 593—598

Protestants, origin of the term at the diet
of Spires, 241; decree against them at
the diet of Augsburg, ib.; their alarm,
242; form the league of Smalkalde,
243 ; their negotiations, 244 ; courted by
Charles, who grants them favourable
terms, 245; terms of pacification with,
agreed to at Ratisbon, ih. ; their gratitude
to the emperor for his concessions, 246 ;
Francis I, attempts negotiations with
the, 266 ; refuse him their assistance, ib.;
their alivrm at the attitude of the pope
and the emperor, 285 ; Ferdinand's con-
cessions to the, 320; their energetic mea-
sures, ib. ; Charles's concessions to the,
321, 322 ; they suspect the emperor, 827 ;
their high tone at the diet of Worms,
331 ; their alarm at the proceed-
ings of the council of Trent, 336 ; their
deliberations, 336, 337 ; dissensions among
the, 337 ; Charles's artful endeavours to
deceive them, 340; combination against
the, ib.; their alarm, 343; the pope di-
vulges the emperor's plan against them,
345 ; their defensive prepai-ations, ib. ;
their solicitations for aid, 346, 347 ; they
take the field with a large army, 347, 348 :
inequality of the emperor's forces to
theirs, 148 ; they lose their advantages by
inaction, 349 ; placed under the ban of
the empire, ib. ; they declare war against
Charles, ib.; injudicious conduct of the
confederates, 350; they advance towards
the imperial army, 351 ; but Charles de-
clines battle, 352 ; state of their army,.
353 ; Charles's violence against the, 355,
405, 406; protected by the treaty of
Passau, 426, 427 ; martyrdom of, by Queen
Mary of England, 446 ; their intolerance
when in power, 460 ; the emperor's alarm
at the spread of their doctrines, and his
efforts to resist it, 569, 570. {See Refor-
mation)

Provence, invasions of, by Charles, 274

PfiUSSlA, province of, seized by the Teu-
tonic knights in the 13th century as a fief
of Poland, 212; Albert, prince of Bran-
denburg, erects it into a secular and
hereditary duchy, ib. ; shakes off its de-
pendence on Poland, and the margraves
of Brandenburg assume the title of kings
of, ib.

Quixada, Don Luis Mendez, major-domo of
the emperor, 524; his care of the empe-
ror's son, Don John of Austria, ib. ; his

680

INDEX.

character, 524 ; his preparations to receive
the emperor, ib. ; his care of him duriuir
his fit of tlie gout, 535, 536 ; his salary as
major-domo, 544; becomes permanently
settled with his family at Yuste, 551 ; the
emperor's provision for him, 576; the em-
peror enjoins upon him to give the care
of Don John of Austria to Philip, 578;
attends the last hours of the emperor,
571), 581 ; is made one of the executors of
*he emperor's will, 582; leaves Yuste, ib.

Hatisbon, diet at, 245, 342 ; terms of pacifi-
cation with the Protestants, ratified at,
245 ; menaced by the Protestant army,
348 ; defended by the emperor, ib.

fi«biba, Cardinal, the pope's nuncio at
Brussels, 472

" Recess," or edict of the diet of Nurem-
berg:, 187, 188 ; publication of a, for the
settlement of religion, 458, 459

Reformation, causes of the, 124, 125 ; rise
and progress of the, 125 et seq. ; in Ger-
many, 125 ; in Saxony, 131 ; in Switzer-
land, 133; its early supporters, Waldus,
Wicldiff, and Huss, 136; causes con-
tributing to its progress, 13G, 137 et seq. ;
effect of the revival of learning on the,
143, 144 ; rapid progress of the, 185 ; loses
its great protector, Frederick of Saxony,
21li his brother John a zealous patron of
the, ib. ; dissensions between the pope
and emperor favourable to, 223, 224 ; es-
tablished in England, 249 ; untoward re-
sults of, 250, 251 ; progress of, in Ger-
many, 283; negotiations for a general
council on the subject of, 284 ; partial re-
formation by the pope, 285 ; formation of
the Holy League, ib. ; progress of, in Sax-
ony and other places, 286 ; its progress in
the palatinate, 334; struggles with the
empt^ror, 345 et seq.; spread of, in Bohe-
mia, 381 ; almost extinguished by Charles,
406; resisted by Mary of England, 446;
rise and progress of the, during the pe-
riod of Charles V., 506; its consequences,
510 ; policy of the Roman pontiffs since
the, 510, 511. {See Protestants)

Regla, Juan de, confessor to Charles V. at
Yuste, 544, 545; administers extreme unc-
tion to the emperor, 579 ; named as one
of the executors of the emperor's will, 582

Reifenberg, captain, 428

Religion, effects of the feudal system on, 9 ;
state of, in the dark ages, ib. 602 7iote ;
zeal for, occupied the minds of men at
the period of the Reformation, 243 ; a
" recess" published for the settlement of,
458. 459; ancient controversies respect-
ing, 460 ; persecutions connected with, ib.

lienti, invested by Henry II. of France, 448

Revenues, national, great Increase of, 52

Rhodes, conquest of, by the Turks, 160

Robert de la Mark, of Bouillon, declares war
against Charles V., 152

Rodulph of Hapsburg, founder of the house
of Austria, 78; elected emperor of, ib.

Roeux, Count de, his intrigues, 180 ; pro-
poses conditions of liberation to Francis
I.. 199, 200

Roman Catholics, their resentment against
the I'eformers, 342

Roman law, t>enetits of its revival, 29, 30

Roman pontiffs. (See Popes)

Roman power, its early ettects on the stato
of Europe, 3 ; decay of the, 4

Romans, Ferdinand chosen king of the, 244

Rome, captured by the Colonnas, 216 ; as-
sailed and captured by Bourbon, 221;
devastation and pillage of, 222; entered
by Lannoy and his troops, 226 ; entered
by Charles V.. 270

Ronquillo, leader of the royal forces at
Segovia, 262, 263 ; defeated and forced to
retire, ib. ; judge of the court of Spain,
288

Rossem, the marshal of Gueldres, 312 ; com-
mander of the Hungarian troops, 422

Roth man, the fanatical anabaptist, 252

Rovere, Francisco Maria de, restored to his
duchy of Urbino, 177

Roxalana, mistress of Solyman, her scheme
in favour of her children, 440 ; she is made
free, and is lawfully wedded to Solyman,
440, 441 ; awakens his jealousy of his son
Mustapha, 441, 442 ; who is ordered to be
strangled, 442

Russia, in barbarism and obscurity during
the reign of Charles V., 514

Rustan, vizier of Solyman, accomplice
with the mistress of Solyman in her
scheme against the life of Mustapha, 440

Saint Bias, the emperor's observance of the
festival of, 549

Saint Disier, invested by Charles, 325 ; its
gallant defence, ib. ; surrender of, ib.

Saint Jago, Spanish military order of. 71 ;
historical illustrations of, 64'! note

Saint Jerome, vulgate of, 341

Saint John, the knights of, 160 ; the island
of Rhodes, belonging to them, is captured
by Solyman, ib. ; Charles grants them the
isle of Malta, 161 ; accompany Charles in
his expedition against Algiers, 305

Saint Justus, monastery of, the retreat of
Charles after his abdication, 478. (See
Yuste)

Saint Matthias, the emperor's observance
of the festival of. 548, 5-19

Saint Pol, count of, taken prisoner, 234

Saint Quintin, account of, 482 ; besieged by
the Spaniards, ib. ; battle of, and defeat
of the French, 483; defended by Coligny,
4S4; captured, ib.; joy of Charles at tha
result, 556

Saluces, marquis de, succeeds Lautrec as
commander of the French forces, 233 ; his
treachery, 273

Sancerre, count de, 325 ; his galiant de-
fence of St, Disier, 325, 326

Sauvagc, chancellor of Castile, 108

Savoy, occupied by Francis I. 267 ; dtikcs
of, during the reign of Charles V., 513

Savoy, Charles, duke of, exposed to tlv) ag-
gressions of Francis I., 266, 267 ; his t^-
ritories seized, 267 ; Geneva renounces its
allegiance to, 269 ; appeals to Charles for
Drotection, ib.

INDEX.

681

Savoy, Emanuel Philibert, duke of, general
of the imperial forces in t\m Netherlands,
438; his military skill, 417; commander
of Philip's army against the French, 481 ;
invests St. Quiutin,482; fights the battle
of St. Quintin, and totally defeats the
French, V83, 481; married to the sister of
Henry II , 502

Saxon emperors of Germany, 77

Saxons, carried on the conquest of the
country with the destructive spirit of
barbarians, 588 note

Saxony, progress of the Reformation in,
147 ; revolt in Thuringia, 209 ; revolt and
defeat of the peasantry, 210, 211 ; invaded
by Maurice, 355

Saxony, Frederick elector of, rejects the
offer of the empire, 113; declares in fa-
vour of Charles V., 114; doubts respect-
ing, ib. 7iote ; protects Luther, 131 ;
seizes Luther, and conceals the place of
his retreat, 147 ; death of, 211 ; succeeded
by his brother John, ib.

Saxony, John elector of, a zealous adherent
of the reformed faith, 211

Saxony, George elector of. death of, 286 ; his
extensive territories, ib. ; his zeal against
the Reformation, ib.

Saxony, Henry elector of (successor of
George;, an ardent friend of the Reforma-
tion, 286 ; his territories attacked by the
emperor, 371 et seq. ; his injudicious con-
duct, 372; his troops defeated at Mul-
hausen, and himself taken prisoner, 372,
373 ; heroic bravery of his wife at the
siege of "Wittemberg, 373 ; the emperor's
ferocious treatment of him, 371, 375 ; he
surrenders the electorate, 375, 376 ; taJien
possession of by Prince Maurice, 376
(see Maurice) ; detained a prisoner, 379 ;
Charles refuses to liberate him, 388 ; de-
mands of several princes for his libera-
tion, 414; set at liberty, but accompanies
Charles in his flight from Inspruck,420 ;
recovers his liberty, 429; his high cha-
racter, ib.; relinquishes the electorate,
438 ; his death, ib.

Saxony, Augustus, brother of Maurice, be-
comes elector, 438

Schertel, the confederate general, 349, 350

Schismatics, deliberations of Charles and
the emperor respecting their suppression,
241

Schools of the feudal ages, 33, 34

Science, progress of, 32; its influence cir-
cumscribed, 34; historical illustrations
of, 633 note
f Scotland, her rupture with Henry V HI.,
314, 315; alienated from England by
Mary of Guise, 322 ; repudiates war with
England at the instigation of Henry II,
of France, 491 ; assents to the marriage
of Mary with the dauphin. 492

Scriptures, translation of, 185

Sects, religious intolerance of, 460

Segovia, insurrection in, on the departure
of Charles V. for Germany, 162; success-
ful resistance of the people to pope
Adrian's authority, 163

Selim II. of Turkey, his victorious career,
111

2

Sepulveda,the historian, the attention paid
him by tho emperor, 557

Serfs, 18, 19 ; their manumission, 613 note

Servi, condition of the, under the feudal
system, 599 note

Sforza, family of, in Milan, 63

Sforza, Francesco, or Francis, natural son
of Jacomuzzo Sforza. places himself on
the ducal throne of Milan, 63; his grand-
son murdered by Ludovico the Moor,
who succeeds to the duchy, ib.

Sforza, Ludovico, duke of Milan, ib. ; is
deposed and taken prisoner by Louis
XIL, 64

Sforza, Maximilian, son of Ludovico, is
placed on the ducal throne of Milan, 64

Sforza, Francis, a descendant of Francesco,
receives from Charles the investiture of
the duchy of Milan, 201; forfeits the
duchy, 203; besieged in Milan, 212; re-
duced to the last extremity, 215 ; Charles
grants him the investiture of the duchy,
239 ; his fear of Charles V., and his
treachery, 265 ; his death, 269

Sicily, contests for the crown of, 61, 62

Siena, wrested from Charles, 'fi}4 ; besieged
and captured by Cosmo de' Medici, 452 ;
ill-treatment of the Sienese, ib. ; Cosmo
de' Medici's intrigues for, 487 ; is granted
the investiture of, by Phihp II., ib.

Sigismund, king of Poland, at war with the
prince of Brandenburg, 212

Sinan, the Jewish commander at Tunis,
261 ; defeated, ib.

Sion, cardinal of, his influence with his
Swiss countrymen against the French,
156 ; his insidious policy, ib. ; leaves the
army, 157

Smalkalde, league of Protestants at, 243,
245 ; the confederates of, 256 (see Confe-
derates) ; their alliance with the French,
king begins to produce its effects, ib. ;
the Protestants insist on a general count
cil being held in Germany, 257; the
princes who acceded to the league of, 265
note; league of, 267 ; Maurice refuses to
accede to the league, 318, 319 ; the confe-
derates protected by the elector of Saxony,
320 ; they take a solemn protest against
the imperial chamber, ib. ; the confeder-
rates publish a manifesto against the
proceedings of the council of Trent, 335 ;
assemble in Francfort, 336 ; their delibe-
rations, 336, 337; the conference abruptly
terminated, ib. ; the confederated princes
and cities compelled to renounce the
league of, 357, 358; their artillery and
military stores seized by the emperor, 380

Society, improved relations of, 30; ame-
liorated state of, at the beginning of the
fifteenth century, 37; pernicious efifects
of the Jesuits on, 298

Solyman, the Turkish sultan, magnificence
of his reign, and his distinguished abili-
ties, 84, 85 ; ascends the Ottoman throne,
124; contemporary with four most illus-
trious monarchs— Leo, Charles, Francis,
and Henry, ib. ; captures Belgrade,
Rhodes, and other places, 160, 161: in-
vades Hungary, 223; defeats the Hun-
garians, and slays their king, ib, ; seizes

683

INDEX.

. several towns, and takes 200,000 persons }
into captivity, 223 ; enters Hungary, 246 ; i
Charles raises a powerful army to oppose
him, ib. ; returns to Constantinople, ib. ;
appoints Barbarossa to the command of
the Turkish fleet, 259 ; he forms an alli-
ance with Francis I., 278, 279 ; seizes the
kingdom of Hungary, 305; his threats to
Ferdinand, 306; Francis's negotiations
with, 315 ; in alliance with Francis, 317 ;
invades Hungary, and captures numerous
places, ib. ; sends a fleet against Naples,
435; the scheme of his mistress, Roxa-
lana, against his son Mustapha, 430 ; she
is made free, and lawfully married to him,
440 ; she excites his jealousy of his son,
442 ; he orders his son to be bowstringed,
ib. ; historical illustrations of, 659 note

Spaix, Ferdinand and Isabella the joint
sovereigns of, 46; the constitution and
government of, 64; conquered by the
Vandals, ib. ; and by the Moors, ib. ; the
Christians gradually recover the domi-
nion of, 65; the union of her various
kingdoms, ib. ; her ancient customs and
laws preserved amidst all her revolutions,
ib. ; political constitution of, 66 ; the
kingdoms of Aragon and Castile, ib. et
seq. ; the limited authority of her mo-
narchs, 69, 70 ; internal disorders of, 71 ;
association of the Holy Brotherhood in,
72 ; prerogative of the crown still cir-
cumscribed, 73; extension of her terri-
tories, 95 ; state of, during the minority
of Charles V,, 98 ; her disasters in Africa,
104; visited by Charles V., 106; opposi-
tion of the Spaniards to Charles V., ib.
et seq.; the Spaniards discontented at
the promotion of Charles to the imperial
throne, 115,116; commotions in Valencia,
Castile. &c., 117, 118 ; feudal system of,
164, 165; evils of the civil wars in, ib.;
limited authority of her early monarchs,
175, 176 note; establishment of free cities
in, ib. ; privileges of the grandees of, 287,
288 ; position of, under PhiUp II., 470 et
seq. ; negotiates a truce with France, 471 ;
at war with Paul IV., 474, 475

Spires, diet of, held in 1526, 224 ; in 1529,
240 ; issues a decree against religious in-
novations, 241; the elector of Saxony,
with other potentates and deputies, pro-
test against it, ib. ; hence the term Pko-
TESTANIS, ib. ; diet of 1544, 320

Spiritual censures, severity of, 140

States-general, 74

Stirling, Mr., an account of his researches
into the records of the cloister life of
Charles V., 518

Strasburg, conforms to the " interim," and
renounces its privileges, 390; menaced
by Henry II. of France, 421

Strozzi, Peter, appointed to command the
French army in Siena against the forces
of Cosmo de' Medici, 450 ; defeated by
the Marquis of Marignano, ib.

Stuart, John duke of Albany, 193

Suabia, insurrection in, 208 ; defeat of the
peasantry, 211; Charles's persecutions
in, 406

Suffolk, duke of, his operations in France,
182 ; driven from the country, ib.

Surrey, earl of, ravages the coast of France,
160

Sweden, state of, during tho reign of
Charies V., 514

Swiss, first employed in the Italian wars,
50, 51 ; prohibited by law from serving in
adverse armies, 156; quit the French
army, ib. ; turbulence of the troops, 158 ;
their rash bravery, ib.

Swiss cantons favourable to the claims of
Charles V. to the empire, 112

Switzerland, reformation in, 133

Sybilla of Cleves, wife of the elector of
Saxony, defends Wittemberg, 373, 374;
surrenders the place to save her hus-
band's life, 375

T.

Tenures, ancient. (See Feudal System)

Termes, mar^chal, governor of Calais, cap-
tures Dunkirk, 492 ; utterly defeated by
Count Egmont, and taken prisoner, 493

Terouenne, taken by assault, 438

Tetzel, a Dominican friar, chief agent for
the sale of indulgences, 125 ; his fanatical
zeal, ib. ; opposed by Luther, 127

Teutonic knights in Germany, 212; their
conquest of Prussia in the thirteenth
century, ib. ; their contests with the
kings of Poland, ib. ; Prince Albex't of
Brandenburg, their grand-master, ib.;
who erects their part of Prussia into a
secular and hereditary duchy, ib. ; indig-
nation of the knights at his treachery,
ib. ; their services under Prince Maurice,
425

Theodosius, death of, 5

Theology, scholastic, 33

Thuringia, revolt in, headed by Thomas
Muncer, 209

Titian, his portraits of Charles V., 541; his
"Last Judgment" removed from xuste
to the E scoria], 584

Toledo, disturbances at, 118 ; insurrection
in, on the departure of Charles V. for
Germany, 162 ; the cathedral stripped by
the wife of Padilla, to supply the forces
of the junta, 170; letter from Padilla to,
172 ; defended against the army of the
nobles by Donna Maria, widow of Padilla,
173 ; surrender of the town, and flight of
Donna Maria, 174

Toledo, Don. Pedro de, viceroy of Naples,
434

Toleration, principles of, 459 ; not suffered
by the catholics, 460

Tomorri, Paul, general of the Hungarian
forces, defeated by Solyman, 223

Tordesillas, the residence of Queen Joanna,
164

Tordesillas, a representative of the cortes
for Segovia, 162 ; executed by the mob. ib.

Torriano, the mechanician, and companion
of Charles V., 546

Trade and manufactures, established in tho
Netherlands and England, 36, 37

INDEX.

m

TramouUle, La, drives the English out of
France, 182

Transylvania, invaded by Ferdinand, bro-
ther of Charles V., 410 ; acknowledges al-
legiance to Ferdinand, 411; Martinuzzi
appointed governor of, ib. ; abandoned to
Isabella and the Turks, 439

Trent, council of, proposed by Paul III.,
319; failure of its objects, ifi.; the general
council of, 33-t, 335 ; and its proceedings,
335, 399. 400 ; undertakes to settle articles
of great importance, 340, 341 ; Henry II.
of France protests against it, 405 ; broken
up, 420 ; retrospective view of its decrees
and its historians, 421

Trial by combat, 20; consequeuces of its
prohibition, 21, 22

Trivulci, French governor of Genoa, capi-
tulates, 233

Tunis, kingdom of, 257 ; its conquest by
Barbarossa, 259, 260; the emperor and
other powers unite to restore Muley-
Hascen, 260, 261; besieged by Charles,
261, 262; Barbarossa defeated, and the
king restored, 262; awful pillage and
massacre at, 263 ; the conditions for sup-
pressing piracy imposed on Muley-
Hascen, ib.

Turkish empire, history of the, 83 ; its con-
stitution and government, 83, 84; the
Janizaries, ib.; its illustrious princes,
from Mahomet II. to Solyman, 84 ; high
character of Solyman, 85 ; settlement of
the, ib.; historical illustrations of the,
657, 658 note. (See Solyman)

Turks, the advantages which their armies
possessed over Christian troops, 85 ; their
formidable encroachments on Europe,
244; defeat the Germans at Essek, 278,
279 ; their rapid progress in Hungary, 304
etseq. ; defeat the Germans at Buda, 305 ;
take possession of Hungary, ib. ; prepare
a fleet to ravage the coasts of Naples and
Sicily, 424 ; tlieir operations in Hungary
428; their descent on the kingdom of
Naples, 434, 435

Tuscany, state of, during the reign of
Charles V.. 513

U.

Ulm, fine imposed upon, by the emperor,

858; abolishes its corporate rights, and

establishes a despotism, 391
Ulric, duke of Wurtemburg, expelled from

his dominions, 256; obtains them by

force, ib.
United Provinces, state of, during the reign

of Charles V., 514. {See Netherlands and

the Low Countries)

V.

Valencia, insurrection in, 116, 117 ; the no-
bles expelled by the populace, 117 ; Don
Diego de 3Iendoza appointed viceroy of,
118; the association of the Germanadas,
174; rebellion and tumults in, 175; the
insurgents subdued by the royalists, ib. ;

its government favourable to liberty, 569
note

Valentinois, duchess of, her intrigues, 494

Valladolid, public entry of Charles V. into,
107; popular disturbances in, 163, 165;
opens its gates to the royalist conquerors,
173

Van Mal% the chamberlain of Charles V..
542, 543; his testimony as to the em-
peror's autobiography, 563, 564

Vandals, their barbarian cruelties and de-
vastations, 3, 5, 588 et seq. note; take
possession of Spain, 64

Vargas, the author of a histoiy of the coun-
cil of Trent, 441, 442

Vassals, their condition under the feudal
system, 16

Vaucellcs, abbey of, conferences at, 471;
truce of, ib. ; truce of, violated by Henry
II. of France, 473, 474

Velasco, Don Inisro de, appointed associate
regent of Castile, 166

Venddme, duke of, 312

Venetians, favourable to the claims of
Francis I, to the empire, 112 ; enter into
a league against the emperor, 178; seize
Ravenna, 226 *

Venice, league of Cambray against, 52 ; the
republic of, 59; its defects, 60; its rise
and progress, 69, 60 ; its commerce, 60 ;
its naval greatness, ib. ; state of, during
the reign of Charles V., 512

Verrina, the conspirator of Genoa, 361

Villa Viciosa, landing of Charles V. at, 106

Villalar, the defeat of the Castiliau insur-
gents at, 171, 172

Villalva consoles the dying hours of the
emperor, 523 ; delivers a sermon at the
funeral, 525 ; officiates at the Escorial
when the emperor's remains are removed
thither, 528

Villani, condition of the, under the feudal
system, 599 note

Villeville, governor of ]\Ietz, 453 ; defeats a
conspiracy for its betrayal, 454, 455

Villiers de I'lsle Adam, grand-master of
the Knights of St. John of Jerusalem
160 ; his gallant defence of Rhodes, 161

Visconti, family of, in Milan, 62, 63

Volta.lre, historical notices of, 660

Vulgate, of St. Jerome, decreed by the
council of Trent to be read in churches,
341

W.

Waldus, a reformer of the twelfth century,
136

"Wallop, Sir John, commander of the Eng-
lish troops against Francis, 317

Warfare, private, to redress injuries, per-
nicious effects of, 20, 21 ; historical illus-
trations of, 615 st seq. note; its pre-
valence in various nations, 620, 621

Wartburg, castle of, the place of Luther's
concealment, 147

"Wentworth, Lord, loses Calais, 489

Westphalia, the Anabaptists in, 251

Wickliff, a reformer of the fourteenth cen-
tury, 136

William de Croy. {See Chiivres)

INDEX.

Wittemberg, invested by Charles, 373 ; its
defence, 374 ; surrendered, 375

Wolsey, Cardinal, the prime minister of
Henry VII., 121 ; his insatiable ambition,
122; his friendship courted by all the
states of Europe, ib. ; receives Charles V.
at Dover, 123; his ambition is still fur-
ther inflamed, ib. ; manages the congress
of Calais, 153; opposed to the interests
of Francis I., ib. ■ visits Charles V. at
Bruges, ib.; concludes a league against
Francis, 154; his disappointment at not
being elected to the papal chair, 181

Worms, diet of, 124; its object, to check
the Reformation, ib. ; proceedings of the,
145, 146 ; Luther's favourable reception
at, 146; conference of divines at, 302;
Charles nominates the managers of the
diet, ib.; the questions of debate, ib. ;
the violent differences of opinion irre-
concilable, rb. ; the articles proposed by
Charles adopted, ;<',)3; opening of the
diet in 1545, 330, 331 ; the emperor's ar-
rival at, 331 ; high tone of the Protestants
at, ib.

Writing, confined to the few, among our
ancestors, 9

Wurtemberg, Duke, his submissive suit to
the emperor, 358; pecuniary fines im-
posed on, ib.

Wyatt, Sir Thomas, heads an insurrection
on account of the projected marriage of
Philip of Spain and Mary, 445

Xiraenes, Cardinal, archbishop of Toledo,
his fidelity to Perdhiand of Aragon, 95 ;
adds the African territories to the Cas-
tiiian dominions, ib.; appointed by Fer-
dinand sole regent of Castile, 98 ; his ex-
traordinary qualities and habits. 99 ; he
strengthens the royal power, 101 ; his
vigorous administration, 101,102; opposed
by the Castilian nobility, 102, 103; his
illness and death, 106, 107 ; his high cha-
racter and wisdom, 107, 108

T.

Yuste, account of the situation, wealth,
&c., of the monastery at, 520; the em-
peror leaves legacies to the convent, 582 ;
the care and repair of, 585; its destruc-
tion in the Peninsular war, ib. ; its neg-
lected condition, ib.

Zuiuglius, opposes the sale of indulgences,
Zuniga, Don Luis de Avila y, visits the em-

peror, 531

THSBNI>«

ry

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BINDING SECT. OCT 3 " 196ff*

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179
R6
1869

Robertson, William

History of the reign of
Charles the Fifth

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